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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24463807">Let me free, let me fly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieDragon/pseuds/JamieDragon'>JamieDragon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hope is the thing with feathers [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Chronic Pain, Dissociation, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, Jaskier | Dandelion Needs a Hug, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Roach is the Best (The Witcher), Slavery, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Suicidal Thoughts, Winged Jaskier | Dandelion, Wingfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:13:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24463807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieDragon/pseuds/JamieDragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A witcher and a bard, both alone in the world, meet one night by chance and a tentative friendship starts. But neither of them is used to being loved or cared for, and Jaskier's past is quickly catching up to him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hope is the thing with feathers [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>919</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm not sure yet how graphic this will be. So far there's a bit of violence and implied child abuse/neglect, but it will probably get worse with at least implied sexual abuse later on. So take care of yourselves and don't read if you might get triggered. &lt;3 I'll try to update the tags when needed.</p>
<p>Also, English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier hated magic.</p>
<p>Magic, and those who wielded it, was unpredictable, uncaring, unforgiving. It took advantage of desperate and hopeless people, gave them a taste of what they wished for, and then left them in a worse position than they had been in at the start.</p>
<p>At least in his experience. And Jaskier had had more experiences with magic than he cared to remember. </p>
<p>He wasn't completely sure of all the details, but he knew how it had started. Just as all fairytales did.</p>
<p>Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman. A rich lord and lady who was, at least Jaskier imagined, very much in love. But money and status can't buy everything, and the couple wished for a child only to see stillbirth after stillbirth. In desperation they turned to a sorceress for help, promising her anything if she only gave them a child, a son. And the sorceress made their wish come true. At least at first.</p>
<p>Jaskier never knew if the couple had broken their promise, angering the sorceress. If the sorceress had had evil intentions from the start. If the wish had simply not worked as intended. But the child had been born… wrong.</p>
<p>Attempts were made to correct what destiny had decided to create. There had been surgeries, spells, and more potions than Jaskier could count. In the end the boy had been scarred, but deemed acceptable. </p>
<p>Until the woman became pregnant again. And the next son was born healthy and strong and perfect.</p>
<p>That's when the attempts to fix the oldest son stopped. But it was also when what little affection and care there was stopped. Why waste time on a broken child when you have another one that is perfect?</p>
<p>The oldest boy was locked away, hidden from curious eyes by walls and lies. It was so much easier to mourn for a dead son than to explain why no one was allowed to see him. The boy became the shameful secret, ignored by his family and whispered about by townspeople who swore they had seen a face looking out from one of the manor house's highest windows.</p>
<p>Until a better alternative materialized in the form of a man. A man who had heard the rumours and who wouldn't mind taking the boy off of his parents hands. He would even pay for it! How wasn't that a much better option than keeping the boy locked up forever? Out of sight, out of mind, and the rumours about a pale face in the high window could seize. It was perfect.</p>
<p>And so, the first time Julian Alfred Pankratz stepped outside of the manor, was to follow the man who his parents had sold him to. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Geralt hated bandits. </p>
<p>To kill monsters was one thing. That was easy. He could ignore what they were and what they did. Just kill them and be over with it.</p>
<p>Bandits were another thing. However horrible they were, often more monsters than the actual monsters, they were human. And though Geralt was more than happy to avoid any human he could, he also knew that for everyone he killed his reputation became worse and the risk of being denied room or food or the opportunity to buy supplies became greater. Even if the humans were bandits, there was always someone who cared about them. Someone who would probably make Geralt's life harder if they got the chance. </p>
<p>That said, he wasn't going to not kill bandits when they were stupid enough to attack him and trying to steal his things. Steal Roach. He had even warned them not to touch her, but of course they hadn't listened.</p>
<p>So there they were. Geralt with his sword in one hand, at the moment plunging it through the stomach of one of the bandits. He could feel the stench of alcohol mixed with the blood as the man gave a death rattle and fell to the ground. Being drunk probably explained why they had been stupid enough to attack a witcher. Unfortunately they didn't seem drunk enough for their fighting to be all too horrible.</p>
<p>Wishing the men had had a couple of more beers before coming out there, or even better, not come out there at all, Geralt turned towards the two other men.</p>
<p>"All I wanted was to sleep," he growled as he swung his sword towards them.</p>
<p>As one of the bandits fell, there was a sharp pain in Geralt's shoulder, and he turned around only to see a fourth man, bloodied knife in one hand. He must have remained hidden, waiting for Geralt to get distracted by his comrades before sneaking up behind him.</p>
<p>Having one man in front and one behind was hardly ideal, but Geralt had been in worse situations. It only took a couple of strikes at the sneaking man before Geralt's sword sliced open his throats. Quickly turning towards the last bandit, the witcher was surprised to see the man on the ground. Examining him, Geralt found he was alive but unconscious. There was a trickle of blood coming from the man's head, and as Geralt looked around he saw a rock, a bit smaller than a fist, laying nearby.</p>
<p>He gave Roach a questioning look. The horse looked back, but there was none of the smugness Geralt would have expected if she had actually knocked someone out with a rock.</p>
<p>Standing up from his examination of the bandit, he looked around. The sun had almost set, and the clearing was dark, only lit by the small campfire which caused shadows to dance over the nearby trees. As he listened he could hear, among the sounds of the forest, the quick patter of a scared heart nearby. And as he turned towards the sound, a small shadow came loose from those of the trees and a young man stepped out into the clearing.</p>
<p>"H- hello." His voice was soft and nervous as he spoke. </p>
<p>Geralt didn't answer, just looked the man over. He could hardly be more than twenty, his brown hair slightly disheveled and with a leaf stuck in it. He was slim, and looked even smaller in his too big clothes which seemed to have been mended enough times to be more patches than original fabric. Geralt first thought that his somewhat hunched posture was because of the man's apparent worry at being in the company of a witcher, but as the young man squirmed slightly under Geralt's gaze he realized it was something else. Something more. Perhaps the man was a hunchback, or had some kind of other deformity. Not that it mattered. </p>
<p>"You threw the stone," Geralt said, finally releasing the man from the silence as he cleaned his sword on the tunic of one of the bandits. "Why?"</p>
<p>"He was coming at you. I… I thought he would kill you."</p>
<p>Geralt wasn't all too worried that would have happened, but he didn't need to share that with the man. "Why?" he repeated. </p>
<p>"Because people dying is bad?" The young man looked as if he suddenly wasn't sure Geralt agreed with that statement. </p>
<p>"I mean why are you here?" And why do you care, he wanted to say.</p>
<p>"They took my things. I followed and hoped I could get it back when they fell asleep. But then they attacked you too and…" The man hesitated. "I thought that if you beat them I… could get my things. If that's alright?"</p>
<p>"Hm." Geralt looked around at the things the bandits had dropped in the clearing. Among their things was a small bag that looked about as worn as the man's clothes. There was also a lute, and Geralt doubted that the bandits had been very musically inclined. He picked up the items and held them out towards the young man. "This is yours?"</p>
<p>There was a clear sign of relief in the man's face as he quickly stepped closer and took the lute in his hands. Ignoring his pack for the moment, he let his fingers roam over the wooden instrument, seemingly searching for anything that might have broken. Being closer now, Geralt was struck by how blue the man's eyes were as he looked up at the witcher, a hesitant smile on his lips. "Thank you."</p>
<p>"Hm." Geralt sat to work packing up his things, and whatever useful items the bandits had on them. He was tired, but he didn't really feel like spending the night with four corpses, and he had seen another clearing not far from where he had stopped.</p>
<p>"You're bleeding," the man said, following Geralt's movement as he kicked dirt over the small fire.</p>
<p>"It's fine."</p>
<p>He could hear the hesitation before the man spoke again. "I can help you. As thanks for saving my lute."</p>
<p>"I didn't save your lute."</p>
<p>"For… for letting me…" There was a pause, more hesitation, and then a small sigh. "I'm sorry for asking, but… would it be alright if I stayed with you? Only tonight! I just… I don't know if there are more bandits or monsters or… people…"</p>
<p>Geralt was about to answer a definite no, but as he turned away from strapping the bags on Roach, ready to leave the clearing, he made the mistake of glancing at the man. He looked so small where he stood, hugging his lute as if it was the only comfort he had in the world.</p>
<p>"I'm the only monster nearby," he said. "You understand that, right?" But the refusal had already died on his tongue. He sighed. "Only tonight."</p>
<p>"I promise!"</p>
<p>He started walking back towards the other clearing, listening as the man followed behind him. "What's your name?" he asked before he could stop himself. He didn't want to know. He didn't care.</p>
<p>"Ju… Jaskier."</p>
<p>He gave a small grunt in acknowledgement. "Geralt."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier hurried to follow the man and the horse into the forest. To accompany an unknown warrior in the middle of nowhere wasn't really something he wanted to do, but after his run in with the bandits it felt like a slightly better alternative than being alone. And having seen the white hair and golden eyes he was quite sure he knew who the man was, confirmed by the man telling him his name.</p>
<p>"I know who you are," he said quietly. "You're the witcher. Geralt of Rivia."</p>
<p>"Hm." If he didn't know better he would have thought that the broad shoulders tensed slightly.</p>
<p>It was a scary thought, being alone with a witcher. Jaskier knew all too well that they killed monsters, and he couldn't say if the man's heightened senses would pick up on Jaskier being different. If they did, there was an overwhelming risk that he would kill Jaskier. But if they didn't… It was well known that witcher's didn't feel things, and since Jaskier was far from a threat to the man, there wouldn't really be any reason for him to kill Jaskier, or… to do other things to him.</p>
<p>So staying by the witcher's side would most likely mean being somewhat protected, or being killed. It was clearly a gamble, and Jaskier wasn't really happy with that. But surely the witcher would have known right away that he wasn't human, and would therefore have killed him by now, right? Also, Jaskier really really didn't want to run into more bandits. He could probably risk the witcher's company. After all, it would only be for tonight. </p>
<p>Lost in thought, Jaskier hadn't noticed the fact that they were slowing down. But he did notice when the tall man staggered and fell to the ground.</p>
<p>"M- master witcher?" he stammered after a moment of shocked and confused silence. There was no answer. "Geralt?"</p>
<p>Not really knowing what to do Jaskier put down his bag and his lute and stepped closer to the man. He had been bleeding, yes. But enough to become unconscious? That didn't seem right. </p>
<p>The horse looked at him suspiciously as he knelt down by the witcher's side, shaking him in an attempt to wake him up. But there was no reaction.</p>
<p>"What's wrong with him?" he asked the horse, himself, the trees, whoever had the answer, but apparently no one did.</p>
<p>The darkness really didn't help, and he realized he would need light if he were to sort this out. After finding a pulse, even though it felt too slow, and making sure the witcher was breathing, Jaskier gathered an arm full of branches to start a fire. He felt bad just leaving the man on the ground like that, but he reminded himself that he couldn't help him at all if he couldn't see what he was doing.</p>
<p>After starting a fire as close to Geralt as he dared, he got to work removing the man's armour. It was hard work. There were too many straps and buckles, and it was far from easy to manoeuvre the huge limp body to get everything off. Jaskier just hoped the stab wound was the problem, that he didn't do all this only to realise his only clue had nothing to do with Geralt fainting.</p>
<p>But for once he was lucky. As he pulled up the man's shirt, he could see that besides the blood, something else coated the sides of the wound. It looked sticky and had an almost green tinge to it. Some kind of poison?</p>
<p>"I don't suppose you know anything about poisons and antidotes?" he asked the horse. Despite her apparent dislike of him, or maybe the situation in general, she had let him work, though under a watchful eye, as if she realized he was trying to help her witcher. </p>
<p>"Me neither," he sighed. "I would think there are at least some helpful things in your bags, but we could have an entire apothecary here and I still wouldn't know what to use."</p>
<p>He sighed again, closing his eyes for a moment as tiredness started to pull at him. But he couldn't sleep. Not yet. He had to figure something out. "What we need is someone who knows what this is, someone who…"</p>
<p>Struck by a sudden thought, he quickly opened his eyes again and looked back to where they'd come from. "The… bandits would know," he mumbled. "And I don't think the one I hit…"</p>
<p>Going back to the scene of the fight was not particularly tempting, and going there to look for one of the men who had attacked him was downright terrifying. Not to say most likely stupid. But who else would know what was in the witcher's wound?</p>
<p>Stiffly Jaskier got to his feet, and slowly approached the horse. "I know we don't know each other, and I don't even know your name, and you have no real reason to trust me. But I feel we both have an interest in helping your witcher, and I… I can't do it by myself." The horse huffed, not unlike her owner, but didn't back away and didn't attack. "So… maybe… just don't bite me right now, and when he's better you can go back to disliking me?" He gave the horse a tentative smile.</p>
<p>There was a moment when he thought he was going to get knocked down by her, and most likely stomped on. But he forced himself to stay still, and something in the horse gaze seemed to change slightly. She took a step closer to sniff his neck and his hands, before snatching a leaf from his hair. Jaskier felt himself relax a little.</p>
<p>"Good. That's good. And thanks for… getting the leaf for me. Didn't know it was there." He patted her soft nose and then started to untie the saddle bags. "I have an idea, but we'll have to work together."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If someone had told Jaskier he would be happy and relieved to see one of the bandits still alive, he would very much not have believed them. But as it were, that was just how he felt now.</p>
<p>Another relief had been finding rope in one of Geralt's bags. He knew he had to move either Geralt or the bandit so they were in the same place, and since he also knew he wouldn't be able to carry either man or even get them up on the horse, he was much more willing to move the bandit. </p>
<p>It was hard enough to get the rope around the unconscious man in the clearing. His whole body ached and he just wanted to lay down and rest, but his worry for the witcher spurred him to continue. </p>
<p>Not knowing the name of the horse, he had started calling her Your Highness, something she seemed to like. And she also seemed to like pulling the bandit through the woods after Jaskier had secured the other end of the rope to her saddle. Jaskier couldn't help but wince as the man was dragged over a particularly rocky patch, and he wondered briefly if Your Highness was aiming for spots like that.</p>
<p>Geralt was still lying where they had left him. He was still breathing, but his heartbeat was scarily slow.</p>
<p>Jaskier put some more wood on the fire, before managing to get the bandit to sit up with his back to a tree so he could tie him to it. Giving himself a moment to calm down and catch his breath, he sat to work waking the bandit up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Waking up was a difficult and unpleasant process, as Geralt's slow rise to consciousness was accompanied by a very unwelcome headache. What was worse however, was the fact that someone else was there, far too close, leaning over him, touching his face, his neck. Before even opening his eyes, Geralt's hand closed around one of his knives, and there was a startled gasp from above as he pressed the blade to the person's throat, grabbing their shirt with his other hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Who are you?" he growled at the young man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm J- Jaskier, master witcher. Please don't kill me, I only tried to help." The man, Jaskier, looked scared and tired, exhausted even, and his blue eyes pulled forth Geralt's memories from… from when? From the day before? He didn't remember making camp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What happened?' he asked, letting go of Jaskier, who scooted backwards a little bit. Geralt could hardly blame him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You were poisoned, by one of the bandits. His dagger…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly sitting up, Geralt looked around their little… he supposed that "camp" was the best word for it, though it barely qualified. He had been laying on the ground, a blanket, now pooled in his lap, clearly having been used to cover him. Roach was munching grass nearby, her saddle and bags on the ground. There was a small fire close to Geralt, and across from that… The witcher's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of one of the bandits, sitting on the ground, bound, with his back against a sturdy tree.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the hell happened?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier flinched, and pulled his knees up towards his chin. He looked tired, exhausted even, and quite worried. "You were poisoned," he repeated. "And I didn't know what to do, but… but I remembered you left one of the bandits alive, and I thought that he must know what they'd used, so…" He trailed off, his eyes flickering nervously around the camp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So you, what? Carried him here? Convinced him to help out of the goodness of his heart?" It all sounded preposterous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier's voice grew smaller, if that was actually possible. "I- I told him that I'd let him go if you lived, if he helped. I don't think he really believed I would kill him but… but Your Highness was more convincing. She helped drag him back here too."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Your Highness?" Geralt asked confused, just as Roach walked over to them, nipping contentedly at Geralt's shirt. "Her name's Roach," he corrected, stroking her neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh. Well, I didn't know, and I had to call her something." Roach turned to Jaskier, blowing puffs of air into his already disheveled hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt wasn't sure what was more surprising, the fact that Roach apparently had decided to like the younger man, or the tentative smile that passed over Jaskier's face before disappearing again. A small part of Geralt was almost jealous. Roach never liked others this quickly. And at the same time, maybe that was one of the best indications he could get regarding Jaskier and his trustworthiness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How long was I out?" he asked, standing up and carefully stretching to see how everything felt. He was sore, and a bit hungry, but he had woken up to much worse on other occasions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, almost two days," Jaskier said. "It's afternoon."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded as he opened up his bags to get a clean, or at least cleaner, shirt and the waterskin. Taking a couple of sips, he was suddenly struck by a realization, and quickly went through the rest of his bags to confirm it. "You didn't use anything in here."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had ment it more as a question, but Jaskier seemed to think it was an accusation. "No, nothing. I promise." He shook his head. "I… I opened the bags, but I didn't know what anything was, so I didn't dare touch anything. Of the potions, I mean. S- so I found what the man," he indicated the bandit, "told me to get, in the woods. I only took the rope because I didn't know how to get him here otherwise o- or how to make him stay. I'm sorry, I'm s- so sorry, please don't be mad!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sudden string of words turned more panicked as Jaskier spoke, and Geralt was for a moment left in stunned silence as the blue eyes filled with fear and tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not mad," he said, forcing himself to make his voice more gentle. "I'm just surprised. And you said it's been two days, did you have food with you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was silent a couple of seconds, clearly considering what to answer, before slowly shaking his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took everything Geralt had not to furrow his brow at that, knowing it most likely would make him look mad. "What have you been eating then?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well… I… I found some berries." Jaskier mumbled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grabbing his bag and waterskin, Geralt went back over to Jaskier by the fire. The man cowered slightly as he drew close, and Geralt made sure to leave plenty of space between them when he sat down. "Here. Water." He gave the waterskin to Jaskier, thinking that if the man hadn't eaten he probably hadn't been drinking enough either, if at all. While Jaskier gulped down water in a way that confirmed Geralt's suspicions, the witcher pulled out bread and dried meat from his pack, handing it to Jaskier before getting some for himself. "Slowly, or you'll get sick."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier stared between Geralt and the food, clearly not knowing what to do. It wasn't until Geralt told him to eat, that he actually did so. For a while they sat in silence, and Geralt felt a slight pain in his chest looking at Jaskier. He was too thin, too skittish, and Geralt was sure he could make out bruises when his too big shirt revealed glimpses of his arms. It was hard not to wonder what the man had been through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deciding to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> wonder about that, Geralt made a small nod towards the lute lying nearby. "You're a bard?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lute looked about as abused as its owner. The once shiny surface was dull and matte, small pieces of wood were chipped off in places, and though Geralt knew very little about music even he could tell it was missing a string or two. And yet, when Jaskier's eyes fell on the instrument, there was the same almost unnoticeable smile as when Roach had sniffed his hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I… I'm not really," he said, popping a piece of bread in his mouth. "I would like to be, I… wish to be, someday, if it's possible."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why not today?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a slight blush to Jaskier's cheeks, as if the mere thought was an impossible dream that he hadn't meant to admit to. "Well… I… I can't… I mean, I'm just… And of course people wouldn't want t- to… I mean… it's… it's just a silly idea, I know. I'm sorry, I… I shouldn't have brought it up."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't apologise. I'm the one who brought it up."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah! Yes, of course, I… I'm sorry. You didn't… But it's alright."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to… Hmm." Telling Jaskier not to apologise clearly only made him more frazzled. "I'm sure you can do it, be a bard," Geralt said instead, though he didn't really know why. "But you should do it if and when you feel it's the right time, for you, not when anyone tells you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence made him glance over at Jaskier, who looked at him with big eyes and an expression Geralt couldn't completely place. Maybe gratitude? Or a very guarded hope? Either way, the tiny smile came back long enough for Jaskier to say "Thank you" before it was gone again. Geralt decided that he liked that smile, and wondered for a moment how he might be able to see it for more than a second at a time. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>With the argument that it was dangerous to travel alone, especially for someone who had neither food nor weapons with them, Geralt offered Jaskier to accompany him until they reached the next village or town. If Jaskier was travelling in the same direction of course. The bard's quick answer made Geralt suspect that he didn't really have a destination in mind at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since it was only a couple of hours until nightfall, and Geralt was still a bit sore, and Jaskier was exhausted from staying awake and caring for him for two days, not to mention from not eating, they stayed in the makeshift camp overnight. Next morning Geralt made sure Jaskier ate something for breakfast. And after giving the bandit some threatening words regarding what would happen if they met again, Geralt fulfilled Jaskier's promise to set the man free. He quickly disappeared into the woods as the two travel companions, and Roach, set out in the other direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt noticed quite quickly that the younger man had a slight limp. But since he didn't seem to be hindered by it, Geralt ignored it. No reason to ask intrusive questions if he didn't have to. And he didn't really want to frighten Jaskier again, so he had decided to try and be a bit more careful with what he said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, the limp became worse as the day progressed. At first, Geralt couldn't be completely sure anything had actually changed, and chalked it up to him not remembering just how big or small it had been. Later, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> become sure that it had gotten worse, but Jaskier didn't say anything, so neither did Geralt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn't until the sun had almost set, that the witcher's thoughts were brought back to the other man's limp, as he heard a slight gasp from behind. Turning around, he could see Jaskier further back on the road. He had apparently fallen behind without Geralt noticing, and was now leaning heavily against a tree.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt had hoped to continue at least until night had fallen completely, but with a sigh he resigned himself to making camp a bit earlier than planned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We'll stop here," he said, jumping down from Roach. "Are you alright?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was pale, or paler rather, when he looked up and nodded. Geralt wasn't very convinced, but when the younger man gave him a forced smile, he shrugged and started to lead Roach away from the road. He didn't have to go far before he came upon a couple of trees that had fallen, and by that created both a bit of a clearing as well as somewhere to sit that wasn't the ground. It was an adequate spot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier slowly came into the clearing as Geralt was unfastening the bags from Roach. His pain was evident now that he was closer. Geralt could both smell it and hear it in the small gasps Jaskier let out every time he put a foot even slightly wrong. Geralt tried to determine which leg was the bad one, but both seemed to give the young man trouble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Where?" he asked, after seeing Jaskier carefully lower himself down to sit on one of the fallen trees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cornflower blue eyes met his in confusion. "Where?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Where are you hurt?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier quickly looked away again, he did that a lot Geralt had noticed, and focused on putting down his lute so it could rest against the fallen tree. "I'm fine."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're not."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier shook his head. "No, I'm fine, I-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stop lying!" It came out harsher than he had intended, causing the other man to flinch. Geralt sighed, forced himself to lower his voice. "I can smell it on you. Your pain." He picked up the small bag with medical supplies, and walked over to Jaskier. "Was it the men, the bandits?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier looked more and more like a frightened animal the closer Geralt got, and the witcher thought for a moment he would have run away if his injury had allowed him to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No." The other's voice was barely a whisper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Something older then?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier gave a slight nod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can I see?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The younger man glanced up at Geralt, now standing in front of him, and then down at the bag in his hand. "There's nothing to be done…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I still want to see." He had hoped it would sound more like a question, but Jaskier still gave a small shudder as if Geralt had screamed at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With careful movements, Jaskier took off his boots, and pulled up his pants to show Geralt. The witcher's first thought was that he had been attacked at one point. Both legs were striped with long scars, especially around the knees and ankles, and on the back of the calves. But the scars were too precise, and too symmetrical with both legs mirroring each other's lines. This was something done deliberately. Geralt furrowed his brow, sensing the growing tension and distress from the other man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I… sh- should have told you?" There was genuine surprise in Jaskier's voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If I had known, I wouldn't have made you walk for so long."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I didn't know. I… I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighed, sitting down in front of Jaskier and opening up the bag. "Don't apologise."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry. No! I mean… I'm so- I'm-" Jaskier let out a small sound, distressed and frustrated, before seemingly forcing his jaws shut, as to not continue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt wondered for a moment how long Jaskier would continue to apologise and then apologise for apologising, if Geralt let the circle continue. Not that he would. It was slightly humorous, but mostly just sad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to apologise," he repeated, trying to sound if not kind then at least not angry. "Just tell me next time."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, perhaps not trusting himself not to start apologising again if he opened his mouth so soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt pulled out a small jar of salve. "This will help with the pain."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps he should have just given the jar to Jaskier, but the bard looked hesitating between Geralt and the jar, so Geralt simply opened the lid, scooped up some of the salve and lifted Jaskier's right leg so the foot rested on his thigh. There was a small squeak from Jaskier as Geralt started rubbing in the salve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier smelled anxious, bordering on fear, and sat stiff and still in a way that again reminded Geralt of a frightened animal, getting ready to bolt. In an attempt to distract the man he grasped for the first topic that entered his mind. "Not bandits, but healers?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier hesitated for a moment before his scared thoughts apparently caught up with what Geralt was saying. "Y- yes. Healers. And… and mages."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mages are more often used to remove scars," Geralt said, brow furrowed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It… looked worse before," Jaskier answered quietly. "They've said."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My parents."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Worse than this?" He regretted his words almost right away. He was hardly someone to speak about somebody else having a lot of scars. "I mean, it must have been pretty bad for them to cut you like this."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier didn't show any sign of having noticed Geralt's poor choice of words. He did however seem to have relaxed slightly, no longer pulled tight as one of the strings on his lute. "I was born… wrong," he said quietly. "My parents did their best to fix me. Make me better."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Does it hurt often?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. "Very often?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"All the time?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small shuddering breath. "Yes." If it wasn't for his enhanced hearing, Geralt wasn't sure he would have heard the tiny word. "Usually I don't walk this much, I… try to rest now and then… if I can."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he could. If no one else was there forcing him to continue. Someone like Geralt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt grit his teeth and focused on not holding Jaskier's leg too hard, to rub gentle circles over the pale skin with his fingers. "But at least it's better than before." For some reason he really needed to think that, to know there was a good reason for Jaskier to be in pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silent hesitation answered him before Jaskier could. "I don't know. I was very small. I… don't remember how I looked, just that I wasn't allowed to see anyone who wasn't there to fix me. Sometimes I think I remember it being… easier, not hurting, or hurting less. But I'm not sure. Maybe I just wish…" His voice trailed off into another unsteady breath, as if he was struggling to keep tears at bay. Geralt made sure not to look at him, not wanting to risk embarrassing him if that was the case. "But this helps. Thank you. But… but you don't have to."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hm. Maybe not."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"W- why then? If I can ask?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt thought about that for a moment while he carefully switched to Jaskier's other leg. The first reaction was to simply say that Jaskier had helped him before, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to make Jaskier think he only helped him because he felt obligated to repay a debt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another answer would be that he saw something of himself in the other, as he had once was. Young and scared and alone. It stoked a fury towards whatever or whoever had hurt the bard, and an unexpected wish to protect him from further harm. But that was something Geralt had a hard time to come to terms with himself, and to actually speak the thoughts aloud would make them all too real.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Master witcher?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The timid voice pulled him back to the clearing and he realized he hadn't answered the question at all. "Geralt," he corrected. "Because people hurting is bad."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finishing the second leg, he readjusted Jaskier's pants, and as he looked up at the bard he was met with that tiny smile again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I… I guess you're right. Thank you. Geralt."</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Right. Get ready for some angst, people!</p><p>Also, there's noncon in this chapter, so be careful if you find that triggering. ♡</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaskier had truly intended to keep his promise, and only stay with the witcher until morning came. But then he had spent two days caring for the injured man, and after that he had been too tired to really contemplate what to do next, and then the witcher, Geralt, had given him food and cared for his legs. And by the time Jaskier realized he had to make a decision, it seemed like it had already been made for him, at least for now. For once, that didn't feel too bad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But what </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel bad was Geralt's kindness to him. Not that Jaskier didn't appreciate it, he did very much, but he couldn't help but worry about what the witcher would want in return. Every piece of bread, every time he was cold and got a second blanket, every time they clearly took a break only because Jaskier was in pain, every night Geralt soothed Jaskier's aching legs with his warm hands and healing salve… It weighed more and more on him, and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>even</span>
  </em>
  <span> more because he knew he should be happy and thankful, which he was, and not just wondering how he would pay all the kindness back. He knew that. And still he couldn't help but worry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So when they arrived in a town a couple of days later, it was almost a relief to see Geralt lead their way to an inn. Once again, Jaskier knew what was expected of him. And though he may have wished for this not to happen, it was still easier than the ever growing tension he felt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stayed quietly by the witcher's side, trying to be as small as possible while the man got them a room for the night. Geralt didn't protest at the news that the only rooms available had but one bed. Jaskier clutched his lute against his chest as he followed the witcher up the stairs, and into the room, the door sounding unnaturally loud as it closed behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room was quite small and smelled faintly of dust, but seemed otherwise well kept. There was the single bed, a fireplace, and a table and chair. Geralt sat about arranging his weapons and stripping off his armour, while Jaskier focused on his breathing. He knew it would only be worse if he didn't relax, but that didn't make it easier to actually do so. He had really hoped that maybe, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just maybe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the witcher would be different from everyone else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you alright?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lost in thought, Jaskier jumped slightly at the sound of Geralt's voice. He quickly nodded. "Yes. Yes, everything is… is fine." Geralt didn't really look as if he believed him, so Jaskier continued, setting down his lute and small pack by the door. "I… I was just wondering…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt made a grunting noise, as if to make Jaskier continue with his question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I was hoping that I could keep my shirt on." He could hear his voice quiver slightly. "If you don't mind."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The witcher looked somewhat confused as Jaskier braved to glance at him again. "Yes. Why couldn't you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," Jaskier answered, letting out a small breath. "It won't be a hindrance, I promise."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier waited for further instructions, but Geralt just turned back to what he was doing. An agonisingly long time he waited, and debated with himself on what to do. His want to please the witcher, fighting against his experience that questions usually just led to punishments. In the end, he decided to ask anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So… do… do you want me on the bed?" he asked quietly, pulling at the loose threads at the hem of his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Geralt answered without looking up. "I'll take the floor."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You-? Oh." Jaskier drew closer to the bed as he started unfastening his breeches. "So on my knees then?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, the witcher </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> look up, his brow furrowed. "On your knees? What are you talking about?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes?" Jaskier hesitated, suddenly afraid he had done something wrong after all. "For when you fuck me?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"For-? Why would I fuck you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted… Sh- should I suck your cock instead?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, I don't want that." The witcher's frown only deepened, and Jaskier quickly looked down, not wanting to make the man angrier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I just thought… You got us a room, and only one bed."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of silence as Geralt took a couple of steps closer, and when he spoke again his voice sounded less harsh. "Jaskier, look at me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier really didn't want to, but he knew he couldn't disobey an order like that. So after a shuddering breath, he met the man's golden eyes again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I got us a room because I have things to do in this town, and it makes no sense to not stay at the inn while we're here. And we got one bed because that was what's available. If you want, I can get another room so we don't have to share."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier shook his head. "No, y- you don't have to do that. I don't mind, I promise." He couldn't stand the thought of Geralt paying extra for a room just for him. "But…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt lifted an eyebrow. "But?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But you're so kind to me," Jaskier said, almost whispering. "Don't you… want anything in return?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No." The answer was firm enough for Jaskier to flinch. "Nothing like that. Did you help me just to get something in return?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"N… no."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right. And neither do I. Understand?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, even though it didn't feel quite right. People always wanted something. No one had been kind to him without having some ulterior motive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if sensing his thoughts, Geralt continued. "If you really want to do something in return, give Roach half of any apple you get your hands on."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And the other half to you?" Jaskier asked tentatively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighed, but he didn't sound angry, which was a relief. "No, the other half is for you. You need to eat more. Okay?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier still felt confused, and uncertain regarding… well, everything really. But he didn't dare question Geralt's intentions again, so he just nodded. "Okay."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm going to go find a contract," Geralt continued, picking up a couple of knives from the table before heading to the door. "I won't be too long. Try to get some rest." For a moment he seemed to hesitate, but then gave a short nod, and left. And Jaskier was alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier followed Geralt's instructions regarding rest, and after his nap he let himself have the luxury of just laying in the comfortable bed for a while. But soon he felt a bit too restless as he just waited for Geralt to return. After some contemplation, he decided it would probably be alright for him to go down to the stables and see how Roach was doing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he entered, the horse looked up from her hay. She let him pet her brown coat and huffed in his hair before returning to her dinner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You aren't so bad after all, are you?" Jaskier smiled, leaning against the wall of her stable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Neither are you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voice behind him made Jaskier quickly turn around, his gaze falling on a man who had entered the stables after him. The man, maybe the stablehand Jaskier thought, leered at him as he stepped closer. Jaskier felt his breathing stutter as he backed away, not daring to take his eyes off the man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"N- nothing. I was just leaving, I…" Jaskier's words turned into a startled gasp when his back hit the wall. And as the man drew closer, Jaskier realized how stupid he had been. By trying to back away he had effectively trapped himself in the darkest corner, furthest from the door. Already knowing it wouldn't succeed, he still made a desperate attempt to dash past the man, but he was easily caught by the other's meaty hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roach seemed to have noticed what was happening and neighed loudly, banging her hoof against the wall, but there was nothing she would be able to do to help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Please…" Jaskier whispered, but didn't try to get away again. He didn't dare to. It never worked. He knew it was better to comply, and not risk making it even worse for himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he let the man press him against the wall, even though it hurt. And he let him grab Jaskier's chin, forcing his thumb into Jaskier's mouth. Keeping his eyes away, not wanting to look at the man, he sucked obediently on the thick digit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's a good little whore," the man grinned, pressing his erection against Jaskier's hip. "I knew that's what you were when I saw you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words burned, and Jaskier forced himself not to cry. Not yet anyway. Was it really that obvious? Could people really tell what he was, only by looking at him? He felt part of his hope for a better future, a better life for himself, getting crushed as the man forced him down on his knees. The grip in his hair was painful as the man pressed his cock far enough into Jaskier's mouth that only experience stopped him from gagging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried not to think, tried not to feel, and just do what he had been taught, trained, to do. But the reality of why Geralt had said no suddenly struck him. Of course Geralt didn't want to fuck him. Why would he want to fuck someone as disgusting as Jaskier? It was a wonder that the witcher even agreed to massage his legs, or let him tag along. He must be waiting for a way to get rid of Jaskier, being too kind to outright tell him to fuck off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt so stupid. How could he have thought anything else?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn't that Jaskier actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>Geralt to fuck him, any more than he wanted to kneel here in the dirt with the stablehand's cock in his mouth. He would be happy if no one touched him like that ever again. But for once it would have happened because Jaskier </span>
  <em>
    <span>offered, </span>
  </em>
  <span>even if it had been out of a feeling of obligation. He hadn't known it until now, but he had thought that it would, that it could, be different now. That away from his old life, the choice could be his own. Tears mingled with the spit and precome on his face. Not tears over the rough treatment, but over the reality that it still wasn't his choice, that it never would be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn't hear the footsteps, didn't notice the presence of someone else in the stable, until the cock was pulled so forcefully out of his mouth that it almost hurt. Confused, he turned his eyes upwards, and saw Geralt landing several punches to the stablehand's face and stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier rubbed his face with the sleeve of his shirt, and gingerly pulled himself to his feet. The other man fell to the floor, seemingly unconscious, and Geralt stepped closer to Jaskier. He looked angry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Did he hurt you?" For a moment, the witcher reached for him, but stopped himself before he could touch Jaskier. Jaskier was silently relieved to not be touched anymore in any way right now, even though it hurt to have Geralt's disgust confirmed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No," he whispered. "I'm alright."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded sharply. "Come on."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In silence, they returned to their room, Geralt almost herding Jaskier in front of him, though still not touching. With the door closed behind them, Geralt turned towards Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why did you not fight back?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier flinched at the angry tone, moving backwards away from Geralt even though he realized he was doing the exact same thing he had done in the stable. Apparently he wasn't very smart. "I'm sorry…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't say that you're sorry!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I- I…" What more could he say? He didn't want to explain everything to Geralt. And he couldn't say that he now understood that Geralt really wanted him gone. If he said that, the witcher, kind man as he was, would most likely protest and feel guilted into letting Jaskier stay. Jaskier couldn't let that happen. It was better to not say anything, and then find a moment to slip away. That way Geralt didn't have to feel bad for pushing Jaskier away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You understand this isn't okay, don't you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded. "Yes. I know." He wanted to apologise again, but forced himself not to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighed. There was the sound of water being poured, and then a mug was held out to Jaskier. "For the taste."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," Jaskier said quietly and took the offered mug. The water was heavenly as it rinsed away the taste of the other man's cock. Geralt really was kind, even now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier sank down onto the floor, suddenly feeling so very tired. He slowly sipped his water as Geralt put on his armour and got his weapons ready.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I found a contract. I'll be gone a day or two."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier just nodded. He didn't look at Geralt, didn't want to see the anger and disgust in those golden eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again there was a moment where Geralt seemed to hesitate at the door. "I'll be back," he said finally. "Don't go anywhere."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was the sound of the door opening and closing, and once again, Jaskier was alone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Isn't miscommunication fun?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Geralt was angry. Mad. Furious. Perhaps other synonyms too, but he had never been a man of words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The picture of Jaskier on his knees in the stable, letting the strange man do what he pleased, haunted Geralt. He had wanted to help, but didn't know how. His first impulse, what he still wanted to do really, was to run the stablehand through with his sword, and let him bleed out in the dirt. But he knew from experience that things like that tended to not be popular with townspeople, and he didn't want to add 'being run out of town' to Jaskier's troubles. So he had contented himself with making sure the man would wake up to some much deserved pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What to do with Jaskier was… more difficult. Geralt was used to dealing with physical injuries, not psychological. But he had done as best as he could. He had made sure not to touch the younger man, concluding that Jaskier most likely didn't want to be touched. He had given him water, and told him that what the man had done was in no way acceptable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then he had… left.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had told himself it was for Jaskier that he did so, that he would like to be left alone for a while after what had just happened. But he had to admit that a big reason for his departure was so he could take his anger out on something, do away with some of the frustration and injustice he felt. Geralt was used to how the world treated witchers. He hardly liked it, but it rarely bothered him anymore. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> bother him was knowing that the world was cruel to someone like Jaskier, who really didn't deserve it. Of course he knew that the world, and the people in it, most of the time was cold and unforgiving. But it was much harder to ignore when it happened right in front of him. And maybe he had hoped, on some deep hidden level, that there could still be fairness found. That bad people sooner or later got what they deserved, and that there was a limit to how many times someone like Jaskier could get kicked in the face by life. Of course, that was all stupid wishful thinking, but it was a hope he couldn't shake however many times reality corrected him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he had left. To stab something, when Jaskier didn't need violence. To kill something, when he couldn't kill the man in the stable. To eliminate some monster, so the world, at least for a moment, could be a tiny bit better.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And still, a voice in his head told him that he was a coward. That he hadn't left so Jaskier could get some time alone. That he instead had run away, when the bard needed his help. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That thought did little to make his mood better. The hunt itself wasn't really helping either. Geralt had hoped that he would feel better if he just got to kill something. But the drowners had been further away and more numerous than he had been told. Which was the reason he returned to the inn three days later, and with a rather nasty cut at the back of his shoulder. It wasn't anything life threatening, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt, and it's placement had stopped him from caring for it as thoroughly as he wished. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He left Roach in the stable, both relieved and disappointed that the man wasn't there to get punched again, and headed into the inn. The other guests stared at him as he entered, still partly soaked and covered in blood and slime. Ignoring them, Geralt just continued up the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he stepped into the room, he immediately felt that something wasn't as it should. At first glance, nothing seemed to be wrong. Everything was as he had left it. But that was the problem. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>was as he had left it. What weapons he hadn't taken were still on the table. Their packs and Jaskier's lute were on the same places on the floor. No fire had been lit to warm up the slightly chilly air. Geralt was pretty sure that even the blankets on the bed were exactly as they had been after Jaskier's little nap after they arrived.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier too was where Geralt had left him. Sitting in one corner, his side resting against the wall, and his knees pulled up to his chin. He was pale and shivering, and seemed to be asleep. At least Geralt hoped he was asleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Closing the door, he stepped further into the room, putting down his swords on the table. "Jaskier."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The younger man startled awake, and his blue eyes were worried, almost scared, when they met Geralt's. The witcher didn't know what to say. Where to start. There were so many questions and things he should perhaps try to express, and it felt even harder now than before he had left.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you alright?" Probably the most important thing. And also the most pathetic. Of course Jaskier wouldn't be alright. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But the younger man nodded. "Yes." His voice was small and slightly hoarse. "I'm fine."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a blatant lie, but Geralt decided to ignore it for now. "Why are you sitting on the floor?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Because you told me to?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt frowned. He was sure he hadn't said anything of the sort. The only discussion of where Jaskier should or shouldn't be, was when he had told the bard he could take the bed. "No, I didn't."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You… Yes. You did."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I-" Geralt internally cursed the fact that this couldn't just be fixed with a sword. He tried another way around the question. "What do you think I said?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier looked as if he wasn't sure if this was some kind of test, or perhaps Geralt's attempt at tricking him. "You told me not to go anywhere."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt suddenly felt like stabbing himself too, and he growled in frustration over not having been more careful with his words. Or rather, more careful with </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> of his sounds, as the growl elicited a panicked gasp from Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no. Calm down. I'm not mad at you," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "You haven't done anything wrong. Just… Have you at least eaten while I was away?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though he had hoped for a different answer, he wasn't very surprised to see Jaskier shake his head. How could he have been so stupid? Even during the best of times, Jaskier hadn't started eating until Geralt told him that he could. At one time Geralt was almost done eating before he noticed Jaskier just sitting with his food in his hands, waiting for permission to start. So why had he thought that the already timid bard, now being even more scared after the incident in the stables, would feel he was allowed to eat food from Geralt's bags while he was alone? Alone, and thinking Geralt didn't even want him to move.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt dragged a hand over his face, feeling more blood being spread there (probably a great way to make someone feel more calm in his presence), before looking at Jaskier again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright. I need a bath. I will make sure food is sent up here, and while I'm gone, I want you to eat." He hesitated a moment, trying to figure out what he needed to say to not make any other mistakes right now. "You can sit wherever you want. On the flood, by the table, in the bed. Wherever you want. Okay? Same goes for food. Eat whatever you want, and how much or little you want. I… would ask that you eat </span>
  <em>
    <span>something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>since you haven't done that since I left, but I won't be mad if you can't or don't want to. Just… You can do whatever you want, I promise I won't be mad. Do you understand?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier stared at him, but nodded slowly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Good. When I'm done with the bath, we will talk. Clear some things up."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded again, though he still hadn't moved from his corner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Deciding that he had covered all necessary bases, Geralt went to order a bath for himself and food for Jaskier. It felt like he had done more talking the last few of days than the whole previous year, and he knew he would have to do even more talking before the night was over. But he also knew that it had to be done. He had to clear all this up as soon as possible. If he didn't, things would only get worse.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. It was going to be a long night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bath made Geralt feel slightly better, and allowed him to gather his thoughts before his talk with Jaskier. Returning to the room, he was relieved to see Jaskier both having moved to the bed as well as having started eating. Not knowing what the other man liked, Geralt had ordered up much more food than he otherwise would have done. Bread and cheese and meat fought with pie and stew and even a piece of cake over the limited table space left between Geralt's weapons.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier had made the sensible decision of stew. Most likely the best choice, so as not to give his stomach too big of a shock. He looked up at Geralt when he stepped into the room, seeming slightly more relaxed but still wary.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't have to stop," Geralt said, as Jaskier made a move as if to put away his bowl.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room was still not very warm, so the witcher set about stacking wood in the small fireplace. When the warmth and sounds of the fire started to spread, he pulled the chair closer to the bed, sitting down opposite Jaskier. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you ready to talk?" he asked, even though he wasn't sure he was ready himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," Jaskier answered, putting the now empty bowl on the table. "I'm sorry for what I did, I-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt held up a hand to silence him. "You are not in any trouble, did nothing wrong. That's not what I want to talk about."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh." Jaskier didn't look very convinced, but let Geralt continue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I… I am sorry that I wasn't more clear. Before. Truth be told, I'm not really good with words, but I will try to do better." He met Jaskier's eyes, tried to choose the right words. "I wanted you to stay in the room, to be safe. Not to not move at all."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded quietly, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his too big shirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can you tell me why you thought I'd want that?" he pushed himself to continue. It was important to try and learn where it had gone wrong so he, hopefully, didn't repeat his mistake. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I thought that was my punishment."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"For what?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"For what I did," Jaskier said, looking away from Geralt. "In the stables. For not fighting back a- and… I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a moment where Geralt just sat in stunned silence, trying to understand exactly what Jaskier had said. "You thought I was mad at you because of that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You told me it wasn't okay, and that I should have fought back." Jaskier took a shivering breath, sounding as if he was fighting back tears. "You were so mad that you left."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt once again wanted to punch something. Perhaps himself. "I was mad, but not at you. Jaskier, look at me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't meant as a command, but Jaskier lifted his head too quickly for it to have registered as anything else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Jaskier. What wasn't acceptable was what </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> did. You did nothing wrong. Do you hear me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But… you said…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That I wanted you to fight back, yes. But I wasn't mad at you for not doing so." Geralt sighed. "I know that sometimes the best thing you can do, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing sometimes, is to just let things happen, instead of fighting or even running, and risk making things even worse. I don't blame you for not doing anything. I blame </span>
  <em>
    <span>that fucking bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span> for forcing you into that situation." He clenched his fists. "I should have killed him."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier sat quietly, his eyes still on Geralt as he processed the words. "Why did you leave?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Because I thought you would want to be alone. And because I was mad and thought it would be better to go hunt something than stay here and punch a wall." A pang of guilt made him look away. "And because I didn't know what to do, how to help," he muttered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Two delicate hands carefully took hold of one of his, and Geralt looked at them in surprise before looking back at Jaskier's face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You made him stop," Jaskier whispered. "You found me, and you made him stop. You didn't have to…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. I did," Geralt replied, perhaps a little too forceful, but Jaskier's hands stayed around his. "Of course I did. I won't let anyone treat you that way."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The bard was silently crying now, his grip on Geralt's hand growing tighter, as if he needed something to hold on to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know you've been treated badly," Geralt continued, trying to get everything he had to say out now, before the words became too difficult. "But I will not do things like that to you. I will not order you to do things, and I won't punish you, in any way. It doesn't matter what you do, or how angry I am, or seem to be. I won't do that. And you don't have to let me do anything to you just because I'm showing you some basic kindness. I understand that you don't trust people, and you might not believe me. But I ask that you still try to remember what I'm saying now, and hopefully you can believe me in the future, when I've earned your trust."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"In the future?" Jaskier's voice was so quiet Geralt wasn't sure he would have heard it if it wasn't for his enhanced senses. "Do… do you mean I g- get to… stay with y- you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. I would like that. But only if you want it too. Otherwise I can help you find-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I want that! I want it! Please, I… I do. I want to stay." The younger man looked at him with a desperate sort of hope behind his tears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt nodded, and gave Jaskier's hands a little squeeze. "I'm happy you do. I will try to be clearer from now on."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, though a little hesitantly. "I'm sorry I thought so b- badly of you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't apologise, I understand." He managed a small smile, relieved that it had actually gone rather well. He just hoped Jaskier would be able to believe at least some of what he'd said. Reaching for the jar of healing salve, he somewhat reluctantly loosened his hand from Jaskier's grip. "Let's see how your legs are doing."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope it doesn't feel too ooc to have Geralt talk so much. My belief is that he CAN talk if he has to, he just prefers not. And though this was somewhat difficult for him, he knew it had to be done.<br/>Anyway, hope you liked it. Sorry for it being So Much Dialogue. But like I said, they needed to have a proper talk. Regular hmm-ing and grunting will hopefully return next chapter. :p</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaskier was a bit surprised but relieved when Geralt decided that they should stay in the room for another day before moving on. He realized that it most likely was because of him Geralt made that choice, but after days on the floor, his body ached more than usual, and he couldn't find it in him to protest. Instead he allowed himself to sleep more comfortably than he had been able to do in a long time, surrounded by soft pillows and blankets which kept the cold out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laying on his stomach, cheek resting on his folded arms, he quietly watched the witcher clean his weapons and armour. It was strangely comforting. The steady rhythm of the swords being sharpened, the smell of oil making the leather pieces shine again. And, he realized, the presence of the witcher. More than once, he drifted off to sleep even when not intending to. And when he was awake, he thought about everything Geralt had said. It was… difficult. He would be a liar if he said he didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to believe the man's words, he very much did, but after years of people only taking things from him, and only feigning kindness because they thought that would get them even more, it was very hard to not doubt all of it. And at the same time, part of him felt like Geralt had really meant what he'd said, at least in that moment. But people were easy to change their minds. Even if the witcher actually wanted to help him right now, it wouldn't necessarily last. How many days would it take before the man no longer wished to travel with a cripple? Or before the monster hunter decided that the monster should rather be dead? The thought scared him almost as much as Geralt's kindness made him hope. And still… Jaskier had long since accepted that his life wouldn't be very long, be it because he was beaten to death or starved or simply took himself from this world. If he was going to die anyway, wouldn't it be nice to spend some time with Geralt before that? Even if it, in the end, would be Geralt who ended him? Wouldn't it be worth it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaskier? Are you alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question startled him from his thoughts, and he suddenly felt tears on his cheeks. How long had he been crying? "Yeah. I'm fine," he nodded, rubbing at his face with the blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt frowned slightly and Jaskier wanted to cower, but the man's expression wasn't irritation or anger. He just looked concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was just thinking," he continued quietly. "About everything you said. I… I really want to believe you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt seemed to relax a bit. "Take your time. I understand that it's difficult."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you." He hesitated. "I just don't want you to think that I'm ungrateful. For everything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't think that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good. That's… Good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence fell over the room again, and Geralt made a motion as if to continue with his sword, but stopped himself and looked back at Jaskier again. "You know… If there's anyone I can take you to, someone you'd rather stay with, I can do that. I won't be mad. If you have parents or-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No!" Jaskier wasn't sure the shudder came from the thought of being returned to his parents, or from the worry at having interrupted Geralt. "I- I'm sorry, I… Thank you, but… no. My… my parents… They don't want me." He kept his eyes firmly on the sword instead of on the witcher himself, hoping that his words wouldn't lead to questions about his family. "I'd rather stay with you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt made a sound which Jaskier thought sounded perhaps like an agreement, and he started sharpening his sword again. "Their loss."</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The next evening, after they had made camp near a small stream, Geralt suddenly abandoned their fire to search through one of his packs, returning to Jaskier's side with a piece of folded up cloth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is for you. As an apology."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier hesitantly took the piece of fabric. "For what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For making you sleep on the floor for three days."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But… that wasn't your fault, you didn't mean to… It was me who was stupid and…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt lifted a hand and Jaskier quickly stopped his attempt at explaining. "If it wasn't my fault, it definitely wasn't your fault either. See it as a gift if that is easier than an apology."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was not at all sure a gift felt easier, but he didn't want to seem ungrateful either, so he nodded and offered Geralt a small smile in return. "Thank you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tentatively, he unfolded the fabric, and stared down at the set of lute strings he found inside. They seemed to glimmer and shine in the light of the fire, and Jaskier was almost afraid to touch them, lest they break or simply dissolve into the night air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I, ah… noticed your lute was missing a couple," Geralt said, and he sounded almost nervous, making Jaskier look up at him again. "If you don't want them-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I-! Sorry. I do want them, I really do. But are you sure? You didn't have to…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt shrugged and put some more wood on the fire, but his slight smile made Jaskier think he was perhaps relieved that Jaskier liked the gift. "I know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you. I really mean that, thank you. But how can I ever pay you back?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Play me something some time when you feel like it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If </span>
  </em>
  <span>you feel like it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to understand that Geralt only wanted in return to hear him play, and only if Jaskier wanted to fulfill that wish. He couldn't completely ignore the thought that the witcher would, </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span>, want more from him later. But Geralt had said that he wouldn't fuck him, that Jaskier didn't have to pay him back in that way. Of everything the man had told him, that was one of the things Jaskier most wished to be true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After they had eaten, Jaskier removed the old worn strings from his lute, and replaced them with the new ones. For a little while, he only sat with the instrument in his lap, following the straight lines with almost feather light touches. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest, and he still couldn't push away the fear that his precious gift would break. But his fingers itched with the wish to strum those strings, and he so very much wanted to hear the sound they would produce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holding his breath, he plucked the first string. The note was off, the lute not having been tuned again, but the sound was still beautiful as it rang through the trees, up towards the stars. Trying each string, one after the other, Jaskier felt a kind of calm in his chest, and he slowly and methodically started tuning the instrument. By the time it sounded perfect, he was almost lost in the music already, having forgotten both Geralt and Roach and his own constant pain and fear. The lute looked even more worn and rugged with the contrast of the new strings, but Jaskier didn't care, because it sang more beautifully than it ever had, the music wrapping him in it's friendly embrace as he let himself disappear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Geralt's gentle touch woke him from the music, the fire had started dying down and the moon had become visible through the branches above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should get some sleep," Geralt said, his expression one Jaskier couldn't really make out in the dim light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded. His fingers felt a bit numb, but his soul lighter. "Ah. You're right. I didn't realize." He smiled at Geralt, and placed his hand on the witcher's where it rested on his shoulder. "Thank you, so much."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a moment where Geralt just looked at him, his golden eyes almost seeming to glow in the darkness, before he gave Jaskier's shoulder a little squeeze, and straightened. "I'm glad you're happy. Now get some rest."</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier played more the next day, though he made sure to not let himself drift away in the music as he had done the night before. They had travelled a little past midday before making camp again, though Jaskier wasn't sure if they were meant to stay the night there. Geralt had left to kill a bruxa. He had been very firm as he asked Jaskier to stay put and wait with Roach. He had made a point of telling Jaskier that he would not force him to do this either, just as he'd promised to not force him to do anything else, but also explained how very dangerous it would be to follow him on the hunt. And Jaskier had no wish to make Geralt worried, or risk distracting him so he got hurt or killed, so he had promised to stay in the camp. He had only stepped out of the clearing to fetch a couple of apples for Roach, after having spotted the wild apple tree, and that hadn't been further than perhaps ten meters, and in the opposite direction from which Geralt had left. He was quite sure that the witcher would think that was alright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Playing slowly and quietly, with lots of breaks to listen for anything or anyone approaching, Jaskier still didn't notice Geralt until the witcher was almost in the camp already. How could such a big strong man be so silent!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geralt! How did it go?" Jaskier could see blood on the man's dark armour, and he hoped it was just from the monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good," he muttered, dropping his equipment on the ground before sitting down on a fallen tree. He looked tired, and Jaskier slowly put away his lute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are… are you hurt? There's blood…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just a scratch."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier didn't know what to do, just had a strong and sudden wish to help. Picking up the waterskin, he stepped closer and offered it to Geralt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher had started removing his armour, but momentarily abandoned the task to instead drink some water. Jaskier watched him, watched the partly unmade buckles, and without really knowing what he was doing he continued where Geralt had left off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to do that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier couldn't detect any annoyance, so he forced himself to keep going. If Geralt really wanted him to stop he would surely tell him so. "You're tired."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully, he placed the piece of armour on the ground and started on another piece.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not that buckle. This one."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though he had made a mistake, Geralt's correction still made him relax slightly. It was a sign that Jaskier's help was accepted, maybe even welcomed. With the witcher's guidance, he had soon removed all the pieces. That, however, did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>allow him to relax, as he took in the ripped shirt and the blood he could see underneath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That… doesn't look like a scratch," he whispered, suddenly very worried for Geralt's health.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man perhaps sensed his fear, because Geralt gently captured one of his hands, making Jaskier meet his eyes. "Don't worry. Witchers heal fast, it takes more than that to kill me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier wasn't completely convinced that the wounds, which looked far too much like claw marks for his liking, weren't serious. But he nodded. "But they should still be cleaned, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Preferably."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was about to get up, but Jaskier hurried to retrieve the bag of medical supplies before he could. When he returned, Geralt had instead removed his bloody shirt. The sight of his many scars made Jaskier's breathing hitch in his chest, almost more than the wounds did. He suddenly understood why Geralt had never looked at Jaskier scars with disgust, only with care and something that Jaskier thought might be sadness. He wanted to reach out and touch those scars, follow the red and silver lines, and sooth any lingering pain he could find.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But these new claw marks were more important right now, and he swallowed down all the feelings which suddenly threatened to choke him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though Geralt was surely used to caring for his own injuries, one of the claw marks stretched partly over to his back, so Jaskier put down the bag beside the witcher, and started cleaning that wound. Geralt glanced at him with a bit of surprise, but didn't say anything, just began with the injuries on the front. They worked in mostly silence for a while, only broken by a few hisses of pain from Geralt and apologies from Jaskier. He cleaned as carefully as he could, but he still needed to be thorough and it made his heart ache when he had to push harder, hearing Geralt groan or feeling him flinch, and knowing that he was hurting him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When everything was done, the blood gone, the wounds cleaned and wrapped, Jaskier felt almost exhausted. Not physically, but mentally, emotionally. And still he didn't want to abandon Geralt. Instead he sat about fetching everything he could think of that could help or comfort the man. A clean shirt, more water, a blanket, some of the food they still had left from the inn… He was about to start collecting sticks for a fire, when Geralt's hand, strong but gentle, around his wrist stopped him, almost making him fall over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaskier. Sit down. Breath."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier realized that his breathing perhaps was a bit shaky, his heartbeat a bit fast. But he couldn't really sit down. Could he? "You're hurt, you… you're in pain… I just…" He heard his own voice quiver slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine. It wasn't a bad injury, and you've already helped me greatly. Please, sit down, before you hurt yourself." Geralt let go of his hand, patting the fallen tree for Jaskier to sit beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier still felt like he should do more, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he didn't know what, so after a moment he sat down on the tree. "Are you sure?" he still couldn't help but ask, worry in his voice as he looked over Geralt, searching for anything else that might be wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt gave him a reassuring nod. "I'm sure. You've taken good care of me. Thank you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Will you tell me if I can do anything else? If you need anything else?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher sighed, but he still didn't seem mad, despite Jaskier asking stupid questions. "I promise. But I'm fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, trying to convince himself that everything was fine. If Geralt said he wasn't seriously injured, it was most likely true. And still, worry gnawed in his chest. What if he hadn't cleaned properly? What if the wounds had been poisoned? What if Geralt had more injuries but didn't say anything because he didn't want Jaskier to worry?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine," Geralt repeated, as if reading his thoughts. "Relax."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… I could play you something," Jaskier offered. "If you want to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher smiled. "I would like that."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yay for better ways to return kindness!</p><p>Like how all your comments are so ridiculously kind and nice and you all make me so happy I can't describe it! Even days when my depression is really bad your love and encouragement makes me smile. Also, it's blowing my mind that I have almost 150 subscribers on this story. Thank you! I hope I won't let you down. ♡</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter just... wouldn't cooperate. You know, when you write and every word feels wrong and you can't get anything to sound good? Yeah, that's this chapter. Hopefully good enough though. Would hate to let all you lovely people down. I can't tell you how much your comments and kudos mean to me. Thank you! ♡</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Though Geralt had been thankful for Jaskier's help, he was hesitant to let him assist with the next injury he got. The younger man had been so distressed after the wounds from the bruxa, it had taken him a long time to calm down, and Geralt didn't want to cause him more anguish. On his way back from the next hunt, he even contemplated if he should take care of the bite before he returned to camp, but he shook off that idea. Jaskier seemed to have been witness to, and most likely victim of, more things than he let on, and even if he wasn't, he would have to get used to at least a measure of blood and injuries if he was going to continue travelling with Geralt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To say that Jaskier still </span>
  <em>
    <span>insisted </span>
  </em>
  <span>on helping would have been the wrong choice of words. Geralt wasn't sure if the bard would </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel confident enough to insist on anything, though he really hoped so. At the moment he was just happy to sometimes see Jaskier comfortable enough to ask for things. As it now was, Jaskier stayed close by while Geralt cleaned and bandaged the bite wound. He handed over everything Geralt needed, sometimes without even having to be asked for the correct thing, and hastily lended a hand to make it easier for Geralt to wrap the bandage. Though he seemed worried, he was calmer than the first time, and Geralt thought he might have to reconsider for next time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next time, however, he didn't get a lot of choice. The injuries were serious and numerous enough that he was happy to actually make it back to camp before collapsing. The potions hadn't completely worn off yet either, something he didn't think of until he saw Jaskier's blue eyes go wide and him taking a step back. But the horrified expression only lasted a moment before Jaskier was by his side, stripping off Geralt's armour with hands which were far from experienced but now knew what they were doing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you poisoned?" Jaskier asked, his voice a bit shaky as he met Geralt's black eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Potion," Geralt forced out through gritted teeth. He didn't have the energy to explain properly, but he had to reassure Jaskier. "Wears off."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, and Geralt let his eyes slip closed. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he wasn't sure exactly what happened after that. In his more lucid moments, he was aware of Jaskier's presence, of being cleaned up, having his wounds bandaged, and of Jaskier's voice humming softly as the bard worked. It was a comforting sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he finally woke up again, Jaskier was sitting nearby, placing more wood on the fire. He looked tired, but still hurried over to Geralt when he saw he was awake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How are you feeling?" he asked, offering Geralt a cup of water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Like shit," Geralt responded as he slowly sat up and took the mug. Most everything hurt, but the water was cool and nice. "But not as shity as if I had been alone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was pretty sure nothing was so bad that it would have killed him, even with no one there to help. But it was far from ideal to have to lay around and wait for his body to heal enough to allow him to take care of his injuries.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Some of the wounds were… are… quite bad," Jaskier said, a slightly worried frown on his face. "I had to change the bandage a couple of times, because it kept bleeding through."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Probably need stitches."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stitches. Could you… teach me? For next time?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt regarded that for a moment before nodding. "I'll teach you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he did. He taught Jaskier how to sew a wound closed, how to best wrap different parts of the body, the uses of his positions, and how to neutralise the most common poisons and venoms. Jaskier was like a sponge, listening to every instruction and, to Geralt's delight, asking further questions from time to time. He was a quick learner, and eager to help Geralt. Just as it became a routine for Geralt to care for Jaskier's aching legs after a day of travel, it became a routine for Jaskier to take care of Geralt's injuries after a hunt. It was nice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes Geralt tried to remind himself that witchers were solitary creatures, and that he wasn't supposed to need anyone. But he couldn't deny the comforting feeling of having someone other than Roach waiting for him, happy to see him when he returned. Travelling with Jaskier was slower than travelling alone, and the bard added another worry to his life, with how much more fragile the human was next to Geralt. But Jaskier also added company, added help with things that needed to be done, added music by the evening fire and conversation along the road. It was more than enough to weigh up for the slower pace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt also tried to observe Jaskier as much as possible. Not to spy on him, but to figure out what he did and didn't like, and what Geralt should avoid doing or protect him from.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier always slept on his stomach. Geralt wasn't overly surprised at that. It was faster to get up from that position, and your, quite literally, soft underbelly was more protected. There seemed to be other reasons too though. Jaskier refused to take off his too big shirt, only cleaning it and himself when he was alone. He also didn't want anyone to touch his back, though he seemed to have a problem with touches over all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One night Geralt had started rolling up his breeches a little higher, to see if Jaskier's thighs could use some of the care he gave the bard's lower legs. In an instant, Jaskier had frozen up with fear, and Geralt wasn't sure if he was too terrified to run or if his trust in Geralt held him back. It took the witcher a long time to calm him down, and to reassure Jaskier that he would never try that again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then there were the nightmares. Jaskier seemed to have them every night, sometimes more than once. Some of them made him thrash in his blankets, pleading for whatever he saw to stop. Some were quiet, far too quiet, with Jaskier just laying still while terrified tears rolled down his cheeks. Geralt hated both kinds in equal measure, though in different ways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first he wasn't sure what to do when the nightmares came. He was worried that touching Jaskier might scare him more, but it only took one or two times before he decided that it still would be better than to leave Jaskier to fight his invisible terrors. So he started waking Jaskier up. Sometimes it was enough to utter his name, other times Geralt had to gently shake his arm. As he had suspected, the younger man seemed to get more frightened when woken up, and it tore at Geralt's heart to see those panicked blue eyes directed at him. However, after that initial panic, Jaskier always looked relieved, sometimes mumbling a soft "Thank you" before Geralt moved back to his own bedroll.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The distance between them slowly sank too. At first, Jaskier slept on the opposite side of the fire from Geralt, and Geralt understood why. But over time, Jaskier placed his bedroll closer and closer to Geralt's, until there was hardly any space left between them. It warmed Geralt to see, in such a clear way, how the younger man's trust in him grew. Yet, he was still surprised the morning when he woke up to find Jaskier's hand holding his, slim fingers wrapped around two of his own. He was pretty sure the bard had taken his hand in his sleep, but it didn't really matter. After that first time, it happened more and more often. And after a while, Geralt realized that the nightmares were becoming fewer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were walking through the forest one day, when they came upon a net stretched between two trees. Geralt was passing it by with little thought, but stopped when he saw Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What is it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's a bird." The younger man had an almost pained expression on his face as he stepped closer to the net.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the fine mesh, a small brown bird was caught. Geralt would have expected it to try and get away from both the net and the human, but perhaps it was simply worn out from fighting already, because it barely moved when Jaskier reached for it. It simply regarded him with its dark little eyes, and chirped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright," Jaskier mumbled, as he oh so carefully held it with one hand while untangling it with the other. "I've got you. Don't be afraid."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Looks like a wren," Geralt noted. Looking at Jaskier so soft and gentle with the bird, filled his chest with a warmth he seemed to experience more and more often lately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"A wren." Jaskier nodded as he got the little bird free. Slowly he ran his fingers over its wings. "I don't think it's hurt, just scared." He glanced up at Geralt before smiling at the tiny bird. "But you're free now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened his hands, and both he and Geralt watched as the little bird seemed to hesitate, chirped, and then quickly disappeared among the branches and leaves overhead. Jaskier's gaze followed the wren, while Geralt only looked at Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bard gave a little sigh when the wren was gone, and turned back to the net. He suddenly looked upset.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Could I… borrow one of your knives?" he asked. "So it doesn't get caught again. Or any other bird for that matter."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt didn't even answer. Pulling out a knife, he stepped closer to the net, and simply yanked it down from the trees before cutting it to pieces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Now it can't get stuck."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was the soft warmth of Jaskier's hand on his arm, but if he was about to say anything, he didn't get the chance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What the fuck are you doing?" A man came towards them between the threes. He stank of alcohol and sweat and anger, making Geralt wrinkle his nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just helping a friend," Geralt replied, not really sure if he meant Jaskier or the wren.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man just laughed. "Friend? Witchers don't have friends. And you owe me for a new net, you freak."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt just turned around, and ushered Jaskier towards Roach so they could continue on. But the man, brave from alcohol or simply stupid, apparently didn't like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey! You mutant freak! I'm talking to you!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't call him that!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was too shocked to even think about stopping Jaskier, as the bard stepped in between him and the man. Jaskier sounded angry, a tone Geralt wasn't sure he had heard from him before, and though Geralt could smell the fear coming from him, Jaskier's clenched fists might be interpreted as shaking from rage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man stared back at Jaskier. "And who are you? The freak's pet?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He isn't a freak! He's more man than you could ever be!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man laughed. "Oh, so not a pet, a toy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even from behind, Geralt could see Jaskier turning a bit pale. But before he could say or do anything, the bard threw a punch at the man who probably was equally surprised since he barely tried to duck. Because of that, Jaskier's fist struck him right in the face, making his nose bleed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You little..!" The man was about to return the hit, but was blocked by Geralt, who pressed his dagger against the man's throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you dare fucking touch him," he growled, making the man shrink back a little. "Leave now. And if I see you catching wrens again, I'll cut off something equally small." He gave the now pale man a meaningful look, before pushing him away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man stumbled but managed to stay on his feet. Despite the threat, he was bold enough to curse them both loudly as he quickly walked away. Geralt let him go, and turned back to Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bard's anger had apparently disappeared again, leaving him looking mostly sad as he cradled his right hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do they always treat you like that?" he asked quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not everyone," Geralt answered, taking Jaskier's hand to examine his bruised knuckles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But many?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They shouldn't."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's fine." He looked at Jaskier again. "It was a pretty good punch though."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his relief, the comment elicited a shy smile from Jaskier. "Thank you. I hope his nose hurts more."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Probably. I can teach you, so you can make sure next time."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think I prefer learning to care for people," Jaskier said, letting Geralt bend his fingers to make sure none were broken. "But I just… How he spoke to you, about you… I- I…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure now that nothing was damaged in Jaskier's hand, Geralt squeezed it gently. "Thank you. Just don't get yourself in trouble for my sake."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, though Geralt got the feeling he would do the same thing again. It was a strange thought, to know someone cared enough, liked him enough, to want to defend him. Strange, but nice.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaskier couldn't stop thinking about the man in the woods. How he had spoken to Geralt, what he had said. The contempt in his eyes and his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier also noticed other things. And now, when he knew about it, he could hardly understand how he hadn't seen it before. How people looked at Geralt. How they whispered behind his back. How they avoided walking too close to him in the streets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was so plain to see. And still, Jaskier hadn't noticed. Had he really been so selfish, so wrapped up in his own worries? He just hoped that Geralt knew how much he cared for and appreciated him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Appreciated him, like the people they met also should. How could they treat the witcher so badly when all he did was help them, save them? They should be singing his praises, not…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Singing his praises," he repeated to himself when the thought took hold and changed shape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm?" Geralt looked at him over his shoulder, and Jaskier quickly shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah! Nothing!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was not nothing. It was a pretty good idea actually. People loved songs about heroes, Geralt was a hero, so what better way to change people's opinion of him than with a song. Or two. Or several. It was a great idea!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over the next few days, Jaskier composed the song. As much as he could, he did in his head, and the rest when Geralt was away doing something. Though he supposed he could use some constructive criticism, he was also a little bit worried that Geralt wouldn't like the idea at all. But he really wanted to try. He had to try.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fact that Jaskier still hadn't seen Geralt fight any monsters was a bit of an obstacle. But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> seen the witcher fight </span>
  <em>
    <span>men</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Geralt had told him a bit about some of the creatures he usually hunted, so it wasn't too difficult to improvise something suitable. Jaskier only hoped regular people didn't know much about monsters or witcher-ing either. Another worry was how best to portray Geralt himself. Jaskier knew of his kind heart, hidden under the hard exterior, but was quite sure people would respond better to dark and brooding than soft and squishy. Not to mention how Geralt would feel about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After going through the song for the millionth time, Jaskier felt it was as good as it could get. The next difficulty would just be to find somewhere to perform it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got his chance only a day later. Roach had lost a shoe, so they had to stop in a small town to find a blacksmith. Being that it was only an hour or two until sunset, Geralt suggested they stay at the inn for the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Left alone in their room, while Geralt tended to Roach and her new shoe, Jaskier did his best to keep his breathing steady. Playing in front of people wasn't actually that much of a problem. Convincing the innkeeper to let him play however…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can do this," Jaskier whispered to himself as he forced himself down the stairs to the tavern room. "Think of Geralt. You can do it for him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his great luck, and even greater relief, the innkeeper turned out to be a kind middle aged woman, who was more than happy to give Jaskier a chance. Jaskier had seen other bards present themselves to the audience before they started, but playing was so much easier than talking, and if he messed up, he would rather everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> know his name. Come to think of it, he didn't really want anyone to know his name regardless. If people spoke about him, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> heard…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shaking off the sudden dread curling in his stomach, Jaskier plucked the first notes on his lute. He started quite slowly, with a popular ballad about star crossed lovers. With his eyes closed and all his focus on the song, it was as easy as ever. No one else was there. It was just him and the music, like it always had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he ended the first song, he could open his eyes without too much fear. The audience was rather small, but seemed to be enjoying the music, both things Jaskier was happy about. He played two more songs which both he and the audience knew well, and then gathered his courage for the song he had written about Geralt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't really dare look at the people in the room, too worried about their reactions. Songs about heroes were common. Songs about witchers… Not so much. But he knew the trick of looking at the wall behind the audience, making it seem as if he was looking at them even though he wasn't. It worked quite well. Until his gaze fell on familiar white hair, and golden eyes that regarded him from one of the darker corners. Geralt. Jaskier just barely managed to not miss a chord as their eyes met, and he hoped that no one noticed his voice shaking slightly before he gathered himself again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn't decipher Geralt's expression, and he forced himself to look away, to keep playing. If the witcher was mad, it  would be neither better nor worse if he stopped playing now. The damage would already be done. He might as well finish the performance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he did. Trying to keep his heart from beating faster, and trying to not stare at those in the audience who sang along to the chorus towards the end. They were probably drunk, right? Jaskier could hardly have written something good enough for people to sing along to?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He decided that alcohol also was the reason for why a young woman requested a song after that, but Jaskier played it nonetheless. After a quick bow, he retreated to the corner where Geralt sat. He felt exhilarated and exhausted at the same time. The innkeeper came over to the table with a mug of ale.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"On the house," she smiled, putting the mug down in front of Jaskier. "That was very good. You're welcome to play again later, or tomorrow if you plan on staying a little longer."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh… Ah, thank you. That's… that's very kind of you. I don't think we're staying, but…" He glanced up at Geralt. "...perhaps next time we're passing through?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course. You're welcome any time." She patted Jaskier's shoulder, and he tried his best not to flinch away, before returning to the bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was still quiet, and Jaskier felt his fear growing for each moment that passed. Geralt hated it. Of course he did. Why would he want Jaskier to sing about him? Why would he want </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>to? And Jaskier, who had only wanted to help. Now he had destroyed everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I- I'm sorry," he whispered, at the same time as Geralt asked: "Did you write that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Holding his mug like a lifeline, not daring to meet the witcher's eyes, Jaskier nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why?" Geralt didn't exactly sound mad. He sounded more… confused?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just… People… think you're horrible, when you're really not. I thought… I thought that perhaps… if they knew the truth… I'm sorry. I should have asked you first. Please don't be mad."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He only realized his hands were shaking, when Geralt carefully took them in his. The feel of the witcher's hands, rough and calloused but still so warm and gentle, made Jaskier finally raise his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not mad." Geralt's thumb brushed over Jaskier's knuckles as he spoke, his voice low and comforting. "I'm not mad at all. I'm just… I didn't expect that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You… you like it?" Jaskier asked hesitantly, hopefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I do. It's good. Catchy." Geralt smiled at him, and Jaskier felt himself relax. "Though I might have to teach you better about those creatures."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, when they had retired to their room, Geralt turned to Jaskier again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We really should get you new clothes."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier felt his smile fall, and he almost unconsciously gripped the hem of his shirt where he sat on the bed. Geralt was right. The shirt seemed by this point to be made up of more patches and mending thread than original fabric. And yet…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not sure…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you want something that fits you better?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No," Jaskier mumbled. "I... prefer this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was silent for a moment, and Jaskier was afraid the witcher would keep trying to convince him. But instead, he dug through one of his packs, pulling out one of his own shirts and handed it to Jaskier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Take this then?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier hesitantly took the shirt. It was dark blue, with a discreet embroidery of silver leaves around the neck and sleeves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No! I… I can't take this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't like it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's beautiful. But it's… That's not… I can't have something so… nice."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why not?" Geralt asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier tried to express what he felt, what he knew. But though the words often echoed in his mind, it was much harder to say them out loud. "Because I don't deserve it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the corner of his eye, he could see Geralt step closer, before the witcher sank down on his knees in front of him. "Jaskier. Look at me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was still hard to not hear those words like an order, and immediately raise his eyes. But he had worked hard to learn that Geralt only asked him to, not demanded it. The witcher always let him hesitate for however long he wanted, and one time, when Jaskier had dared to not look at him </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he still hadn't gotten mad. In fact, he had almost seemed proud over Jaskier refusing him. It was all very weird.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gripping Geralt's hand for support, Jaskier met his eyes after a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whoever told you that you don't deserve things is wrong," Geralt said. "You deserve everything, and more."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier wasn't sure that was actually true, but he nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So if you want the shirt, it is yours."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But… don't you want it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt made a slight shrug. "Not really my style. But it was a gift, so it felt a bit wrong to just toss it out. Better you have it than it ending up as bandages."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you," Jaskier whispered, his voice thick with emotions. It wasn't just the shirt. It was also the words, and the never ending kindness Geralt showed him. Did he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>deserve all that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm gonna go check on Roach. Why don't you try on the shirt while I'm gone?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier had every intention to try the shirt, but it still took him a while before he could stop simply sit and run his fingers over the silver leaves. After making sure the door was locked, he pulled his old shirt off. It was almost frightening to put on the new one. Not just a worry regarding its size, but also the fact that he so rarely got new clothes and each time was a struggle to not imagine the new garment being ripped from him again. But Geralt would never do that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shirt was big, just as big as Jaskier had hoped. The thicker fabric, not worn through by use, felt like an extra layer of protection. And the shirt smelled like Geralt. Jaskier had barely realized how the smell of horse and leather and forest had come to symbolise comfort, protection, happiness. Just sitting there, with his face buried in the soft fabric, helped the last pieces of the evening's worries melt away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That's how Geralt found him when he returned, and the witcher smiled, a kind amusement in his golden eyes. "You like your tent then?" he asked, noting how big the shirt was on Jaskier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. Very much. Thank you!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier hoped he could somehow keep the shirt always smelling like Geralt. To be able to keep that comfort even if they were apart. But laying in bed, Geralt's warm hand in his as he fell asleep, he hoped even more that being apart would never even be a possibility. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alternative chapter title: Geralt gets a song and Jaskier gets a tent ;p<br/>Thank you so much for sticking with me. Hope you're enjoying the fluff. It will soon get worse, I promise  ;) <br/>As always, I can't describe how much your support and kindness means to me. Your comments give me life! Thank you! ♡</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry for taking so long to post the next chapter. My mental health hasn't been the best (but not the worst either thankfully), I've been somewhat knocked out by the heat, I've been away celebrating my mom's birthday, and yeah, stuff like that.<br/>A bigger reason it has taken so long is probably that I'm more nervous about this chapter than the previous ones. We're now getting to the point where my original idea started, a lot of stuff will be revealed, and I'm just... a bit scared. You're all so kind and lovely and have encouraged me so much, and I would hate to let you all down. Hopefully you won't be disappointed.<br/>As always, thank you so much for reading, and for being so amazing. I really don't deserve you. ♡<br/>(Also, if someone could please tell me that it's a good idea to sleep during the night and save writing for the daytime, that would be great, thanks)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was soon clear to Geralt that Jaskier literally singing his praises was not going to be just a one time thing. After that first night, the bard more and more often asked in the inns and taverns where they stopped if they would like him to play. Most of the time, the answer was yes. Who didn't like some music, after all?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watching Jaskier play was something Geralt could barely explain properly. Though he could still sense the almost constant worry under the surface, most of the signs of Jaskier's abuse seemed to melt away. His back was straighter, his voice more confident, his fingers never missing a note. It made Geralt's heart swell to see him like that, and at the same time ache at the thought that with a better life he might have looked like that always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having Jaskier play the taverns, unfortunately gave a new set of problems. Not every patron seemed to know, or care about, the difference between a bard and a whore. The first time it happened, Geralt had been distracted. Ordering food for the bard, who had just stopped playing for the night. It wasn't until he heard a panicked gasp that he looked up and saw Jaskier, pale and frightened, being pulled towards the backdoor by an older man. In an instant, Geralt had crossed the room, and put a sharp knife against the man's throat while at the same time cursing himself for not keeping better watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had been kicked out of the tavern after that. Apparently the owner wasn't very happy to have Geralt threatening one of the regulars. In his defence, Geralt had only punched him a couple of times. Jaskier had been shook up, not really wanting to be around people anymore that night, so having to leave was probably for the best anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, Geralt contemplated asking Jaskier to stop performing, telling him that it perhaps was too risky. But he found that he couldn't. He understood why Jaskier was playing, and he didn't want to disappoint him by telling him to stop. It also seemed to be a good thing for the younger man's self confidence. And on a more egotistical note, Geralt didn't want to stop seeing the way Jaskier's eyes shone, how his cheeks blushed with happiness after a successful performance, and even more so when Geralt complemented his music. No, he didn't want to lose that. So he decided to instead be more vigilant while Jaskier performed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though he knew Jaskier's reasoning, he didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>think the songs would change anything. But to his surprise, they did. A couple of times, someone bought him a mug of ale, or his dinner, while Jaskier played. Sometimes people came over to his table to thank him for ridding their village of whatever it was that had plagued them. And a couple of times, when he and Jaskier returned to a town where Jaskier had already played, there was a noticeable difference in the way people treated, or even looked at, Geralt. Nothing astonishing, but noticeable. Geralt was amazed, and tried not to wonder how much Jaskier would be able to change people's minds and perspectives if he was given a couple of years. Would Geralt be treated like anybody else then? Would he want that? If it meant that Jaskier was still travelling with him after those years, the answer was embarrassingly easy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn't deny the friendship between them, but he still tried to ignore the way his feelings for Jaskier seemed to continue to grow and change. If he'd been a braver man, he might have entertained the idea that he was falling in love with the bard. But the thought was terrifying. Perhaps not the thought of having someone to love and care for, but the fear of losing that person. A witcher's life was too dangerous to have a lover accompany him. But… Jaskier was already accompanying Geralt. So maybe the fear had more to do with him not wanting to be rejected. To open up his heart for someone and then having it crushed. Geralt truly felt like a coward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But another problem, another fear, was Jaskier's past. He could still so clearly see the younger man in that first room they'd shared, when Jaskier had thought he had to give himself to the witcher. Geralt was fairly certain that he had managed to convince Jaskier that it wasn't the case, but would he undo all of that if he told Jaskier how he felt? The thought of the bard pretending to want the same thing, either from fear or simply from a wish to make Geralt happy, was enough to make him nauseous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring everything, and sticking to friendship, was most likely the best Geralt could do. The only thing he could do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier, however, didn't really make it easy for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geralt, look!" The bard's blue eyes shone with happiness as he pointed towards a big meadow, filled with flowers and grass that reached at least as high as Roach's stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm." It was pretty, and something he might not have noticed before. But Jaskier was good at both finding the beautiful things and making said things even more beautiful with his presence. "You want to go there?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes! Can we? Just for a little while?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt had things to do in the town which he could make out beyond the trees a little further ahead, but it wasn't really anything that was time sensitive, and in any case, they had reached the town quicker than he had anticipated. They had time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a short nod, he steered Roach off the road and towards the meadow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's like a sea of flowers," Jaskier smiled. "It's beautiful!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes." Geralt glanced at the bard. "Beautiful."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't take long before a singing Jaskier had started braiding flowers into Roach's mane and tail (the horse allowing, it if only because Jaskier let her snatch the tastiest plants from his hands while he worked), and Geralt sat down to sharpen a couple of his knives, mostly just to have something to do. Now and then, he raised his eyes to look at Jaskier, getting distracted by the way the sun brought out gold and copper in his hair, how his eyes seemed even more blue next to the blues in the flower crown he'd made for himself. It was difficult to force his eyes back to the blade and wetstone, and not linger on the delicate fingers which twisted and braided more flowers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… I made you one too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt looked up again when Jaskier, a little while later, broke off his low melodic singing to speak to him. Jaskier had apparently made another flower crown, and held it up to show Geralt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's silly, I know. I understand if you don't-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Geralt interrupted. "I want it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier looked as if he really hadn't thought Geralt would say yes, but moved closer. Standing on his knees, he leaned over Geralt's crossed legs to put the crown on his head, and without thinking Geralt, placed his hands on the younger man's hips to steady him. Realizing what he was doing, he quickly looked up, only to find Jaskier's face much too close to his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry. I just didn't want you to fall."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know. Thank you." There was a clear blush to Jaskier's cheeks, but he looked more embarrassed than scared, which was a relief. To Geralt's surprise, Jaskier didn't move away either, his one hand resting on Geralt's shoulder and the other hovering close to Geralt's face as if he wanted to touch but didn't really dare to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt waited a long moment, wanting to see what the younger man would do. But he started worrying that his own inaction would be interpreted as uninterest, instead of his unwillingness to force Jaskier into… whatever this might be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I won't do anything you don't want," he said quietly, hoping it would be enough to reassure Jaskier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently it was, because Jaskier nodded silently and softly pressed his lips to Geralts'.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a kind, tentative kiss. Geralt would almost have called it chaste. Jaskier tasted of the wild strawberries they had found in the meadow, and his hand finally, gently, cupped Geralt's face. Geralt did his best to express his happiness with the situation, without being so eager it made Jaskier think this, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wasn't enough. Sitting there among the flowers, the sun on his back, and with permission to hold and to kiss Jaskier, who was halfway in his lap by now, made Geralt thoroughly content.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He immediately missed the kiss when Jaskier broke it, gazing at Geralt with shimmering eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That… that was okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt wasn't sure if he was wondering if the kiss had been good, or if Geralt was alright with the situation over all. "Yes," he smiled, answering both possible questions. "Very much okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier practically beamed at him, and Geralt dared to lean a bit closer to give him another kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>okay? I'm not at all unhappy with this, but I don't want you to…" He brushed away a lock of hair from Jaskier's face. "You would tell me if you don't want this, right? I don't want you to do this, or anything, just because you think I want it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier's smile faltered slightly, but his kind eyes still met Geralts'. "I promise, I want to do this," he whispered, and Geralt's worries were swept away by another kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spent over an hour in the meadow, hidden in the tall grass, sometimes kissing, sometimes just talking, their hands together and Jaskier's head on Geralt's shoulder. Geralt wondered when last he had felt this good, this happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, he still had his errands in the town, and even though he really didn't want to leave, the sun's journey across the sky told him he had to if he wanted to be done before night fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to stay here forever," Jaskier mumbled, as if reading his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know, little songbird, but-" A slight flinch from Jaskier made him stop. "What is it?" He reached for his knives as he looked around, trying to find what had scared the bard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I…" Jaskier didn't move, just held his hand a little tighter. "Could you not call me that, please?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confused, Geralt abandoned his search to instead look down at Jaskier. Was it a trick of the light, or did he look a little bit pale? "Songbird?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, his lips pressed tightly together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course." Geralt didn't know why Jaskier asked that, but he definitely wasn't going to argue. "Is there anything else you don't want me to call you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier sat up straighter, lifting his head from Geralt's shoulder, but kept his gaze on their hands. "Lark," he whispered after a bit of hesitation. "Dove. Bluebird. Any bird really. I'm sorry, I know it's silly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No." Geralt gently tilted Jaskier's face upwards, so he could meet his eyes. "It's not silly. And I won't call you that again." He placed a soft kiss against Jaskier's forehead. "Thank you for telling me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier's smile was a little bit unsteady, but his eyes spoke of gratitude as he kissed Geralt again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should go," Geralt said, after allowing some more time to pass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Already?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't want to risk the shops closing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier looked around the meadow, the sea of flowers, and sighed, clearly disappointed. "Do you need me though?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Always," Geralt smiled, and was rewarded by Jaskier blushing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I mean… Could we meet here again when you're done? I feel like this is a good place for composing, especially when you're not here distracting me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Distracting? I'm not the one looking like fae, spreading flowers and songs everywhere."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not everywhere!" Jaskier tried for indignation, but couldn't hold back a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because that won't leave a trail of flowers after us." He nodded towards Roach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If I'm fae, it will stay on by magic."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hm." Geralt packed away his knives, before turning back to Jaskier. "I should be back by sunset. If there's any trouble, you get on Roach and leave. I'll find you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I promise." Rising from where he had been sitting, Jaskier stepped closer and placed his hands on Geralt's chest. "One more kiss for the road?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt could hardly say no to that. But as he left the meadow, he couldn't help but feel like he shouldn't. It wasn't the first time Jaskier had stayed behind while Geralt went into a town or village, the younger man not always wanting to be around strangers. There had never been any trouble, so Geralt really shouldn't feel so worried. And yet, as Jaskier and Roach disappeared from view, Geralt felt like he was making a mistake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though he hurried, the sun was starting to set as Geralt returned. Returned to an empty meadow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first he tried to rationalise it as Jaskier and Roach simply laying down in the tall grass. But as he got closer, it was also way too quiet. No singing, no music, no sound of a horse. And the place they had been at was empty when he reached it. Jaskier and Roach were gone, as well as all their packs. Only Jaskier's flower crown was left, partly crushed from someone stepping on it. It felt like a bad omen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, it wasn't hard to follow the trail, leaving the meadow and disappearing into the woods. Unfortunately, it was clear that more feet than just Jaskiers' had gone that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Setting off at a run, Geralt cursed and promised painful death on anyone who had hurt Jaskier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't take too long before he could hear voices from up ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Leave her be! Please!" It was Jaskier's voice, and the way it sounded, scared and pleading, made Geralt's blood boil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't get to make such demands, Julian," answered another voice. "You must understand that I don't have much good will left for you after what you did."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Please don't hurt her!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt could hear Roach neigh in agitation, probably kicking someone too, if the immediate shout of pain was anything to go by. Good girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Control that horse!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt could make out figures among the trees, Jaskier and at least three or four men. The bard looked pale as he stepped in between Roach and a man with a whip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please, let her go! I won't fight you, if you just let her go!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the men laughed, as if the idea of Jaskier fighting them at all was amusing. However, he didn't have time to say anything before Geralt entered the clearing, sword drawn and murder in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were five men there, one seemingly being their leader or employer, if his fine clothes and well combed salt and pepper hair was anything to go by. He looked slightly surprised at seeing Geralt, but quickly pulled Jaskier close, pressing a knife to his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah! The witcher! So nice of you to join us." He smiled, as if Geralt was an old friend. "I must thank you for taking care of my little Julian, though I must say I'm surprised to see him in such good health. Didn't think someone like yourself would care so much for him. But then again, he is a pretty little thing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get your hands off him," Geralt growled, pointing his sword toward the man, while still keeping an eye on the others. "And don't speak as if he's an object, a possession."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier's blue eyes were filled with too many emotions for Geralt to decipher. He looked equal parts relieved and terrified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, but he his, witcher. I'm Witold, the man who owns him. And even if I didn't, he still owes me for all I've done for him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Done for him? Don't make me laugh."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Witold smirked. "I've given him food and clothes and a place to stay. I took him in when no one, not even his own parents, wanted him. I helped him develop his talents for music, giving him a way to earn money."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier finally looked away, but not before Geralt could see the tears in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Everything he has, everything he is, he has me to thank for," Witold continued, speaking more to Jaskier now. "The only thing I asked in return, was that you worked for me. And not even that, you could do properly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry." Jaskier's voice was barely more than a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know you are. But you need to be better. And this whole thing of running away… I am very disappointed in you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- I didn't mean… I'm sorry. Please, don't-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Julian," Witold sighed, as if speaking to a child who doesn't understand better. "You know how much it hurts me to have to punish you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know. I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt wanted nothing more than to kill this bastard. Slowly. But with the knife against Jaskier's neck, and the crossbows that a couple of the men were aiming at him, there wasn't much he could do in that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaskier, look at me." It hurt Geralt to see how Jaskier's head immediately snapped up, as if he had completely forgotten all the times Geralt had told him he would never give him orders. "Everything will be alright, I promise. Just stay strong."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"G- Geralt… please…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, this is sweet," Witold laughed, interrupting whatever Jaskier had wanted to say. "But I must confess, I'm surprised that you would keep him as company, witcher. I realise the comfort of having a nice bed warmer close at hand, but this one? The monster hunter and the monster!" Witold laughed again, and then looked between them, as a thought apparently struck him. "You haven't told him? Oh, little songbird, that's no way to treat a friend, is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier seemed to grow even paler, and his heartbeat picked up speed as he struggled against Witold's hard grip. "No! No, please! Don't..!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Witold didn't answer. He simply grabbed a hold of Jaskier's shirt and yanked, the embroidered fabric ripping as the garment was forced off Jaskier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Geralt saw. Saw everything Jaskier had been hiding under his too big clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw the slave brand, burned into Jaskier's skin, just below his left collarbone. And the fact that it wasn't crossed over, meaning that the bard hadn't been set free, but had run away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw the scars. Not neat and even from a healers work, but long and harsh lashes from a whip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw the wings. Warm brown, the same colour as Jaskier's hair, and each with a patch of shimmering blue surrounded by white, not unlike on the wings of a jay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw the strips of fabric that Jaskier had used to tie the wings close to his back. And the corresponding stripes of bruises across his torso, from how hard he had bound the wings in his attempts to hide them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt saw all of it. And he also saw how the light in Jaskier's eyes, which had steadily grown brighter over the last few months, dimmed and disappeared again, as Jaskier stopped struggling and turned his face away. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all so much for your kudos and nice comments. They make me so so happy I can't even explain. I love you ^_^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He had known this would happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ever since that first night, when he had been running blind through the forest, his lute and a desperate hope the only things in his possession, Jaskier had known it would end. In fact, he had evaded the inevitable much longer than he'd thought he would. Perhaps too long. Because he had started to think that he might not be found at all, that Witold had given up, that Jaskier would be allowed to keep this new life. Keep Geralt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now it was all over. Like it was always destined to be, sooner or later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt had seen him, seen all of him, seen all his secrets and shame, and Jaskier didn't dare look at him. He knew this would be the last time he saw the witcher, and he desperately wanted to glance at him one more time before he was gone, but he didn't dare. Geralt would look angry now, disgusted, betrayed, hateful. Jaskier wasn't sure which emotion would be worse, but it didn't matter, because he couldn't look at Geralt. He much more wanted to remember the man's kind smiles, the way his hands felt as they gently rubbed his aching legs, the way his lips had felt when he'd kissed Jaskier. The first time anyone had even asked Jaskier if kissing was what he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to keep all of that, and not have the last thing he saw being a monster hunter who realized he'd let a monster get close, get away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>People talked around him, above him, but Jaskier wasn't listening. It didn't matter what was said. Whatever was discussed or decided didn't need his opinion, didn't want it even if he had one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead he kept his eyes on the ground, and on the ruined shirt at his feet. He wanted desperately to reach for it, but he didn't dare. Witold was mad enough already. But if he could just keep that shirt, keep a tiny bit of the life he had been allowed to have with Geralt. Keep Geralt. It still smelled a bit of the witcher, but he was worried that the longer the garment stayed on the ground, the quicker the scent would disappear. Maybe if he was really good, Witold would allow him to keep it. Maybe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier was pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of his wings being cut free, and he took a deep shuddering breath as breathing came a bit easier. He had only allowed himself short breaks from the bindings, too afraid of Geralt, or anyone else, finding out the truth. Gritting his teeth, he carefully moved the wings, aching and quite disheveled after being hidden away for so long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My my, you have grown, little bird," Witold said, making Jaskier gasp in pain as he roughly unfolded one of the wings. "We'll have to take care of that, I think. Before we do anything else." Turning towards someone else he ordered; "Bring the shears!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier felt as if a hand made of ice squeezed his heart. It took several attempts before he found his voice again. "Please…" Fighting always made things worse, he knew that, and still he couldn't help but try. He thrashed in Witold's arms, struggled to get away, as the simple farming tool, the object of horror and torture, was brought over. "No no no! No! Please, don't! P- please! Not in f- front of..!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rough hands forced him to the ground, held him down, a knee pushed hard against his back. Jaskier tried to get up, get away, keep his wings folded close, but he was too weak. Just like he always was. Always had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please, don't! I'll do anything!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, I know you will, little bird," Witold smirked somewhere above him. "I'll make sure of that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without further warning, Jaskier felt his left wing being yanked open, and he screamed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier had always hated his wings. On a bird, he might have found them beautiful. The brown being such a soft and warm colour. The way the blue turned almost iridescent in the sun. On him though, they were just wrong. A reminder of how different he was. A monster. A freak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some of his first memories were of being told by his parents that he had to hide the wings. That they were a bad thing. He had heard the word abomination, though it had taken him years to learn what that meant. They had called his wings that. An abomination. But even at that age, Jaskier had known his parents, their faces now lost to time, actually meant him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Witold was different. He hadn't wanted to hide Jaskier's wings, but to show them. As long as people paid for it, of course. And later, when Jaskier got a bit older, he would let people pay even more, for the opportunity to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> more. Though a monster, Jaskier had always been a pretty monster, and it wasn't hard to find people who would pay Witold for some time alone with him. It didn't matter if they thought he was fae, or some magician's experiment, or simply an unfortunate boy who wasn't allowed to say no. Their coin was worth the same to Witold, and their hands felt the same to Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So whether hidden or shown. Whether horrible or beautiful. Jaskier had learned to hate his wings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he had been braver, he would have tried to get rid of them years ago. Find a sharp rock or knife and simply carve until they were gone. But he had always been too afraid. Afraid of the pain. Afraid of being left with two horrific stumps. Afraid of succeeding, only to have them grow back again. So he hadn't tried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did, however, wish them gone. Which was why he could never understand the terror he felt at having his wings clipped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn't even hurt that much. With no feeling in the individual feathers, it wasn't painful to have them cut. It only hurt when he shears sometimes were a bit dull and got stuck, only for the one cutting to yank them free, along with a handful of feathers. Or when someone 'by accident' cut into the muscle of the wing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, it wasn't the pain. It was worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like a violation. Almost more so than when Witold sold his 'company'. At one point, Jaskier had more or less gotten used to being fucked against his will, however much he hated it. And still, he could never get used to being wing clipped. It felt like a piece of him was cut away, leaving him raw and vulnerable, and he was almost afraid that one day there would be nothing left of him. Everything having been cut away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And this time, it all happened in front of Geralt. In front of the one person Jaskier would give anything to not see him like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to fight, wanted to scream. But like every time, his whole body seemed to freeze up. It was a struggle just to breathe, as if there suddenly wasn't enough air in the clearing. Trembling, he watched the trampled flowers in front of him, made blurry by his own tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt most of the hands let go, their owners knowing that Jaskier wouldn't get up. And Jaskier knew it too. He could only listen to the sound of the shears, watch as pieces of brown feathers fell around him. Or maybe it wasn't him. He felt disconnected. Numb, and at the same time too sensitive. Air came in too fast, too shallow, little gasps, enough to make him dizzy. The ground underneath was softened by his tears, and he dug his shaking fingers into the soil in a desperate attempt to hold on to something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then. He felt it. Cold metal around his neck. Settling into the place it had dug out for itself, with complete disregard for how much skin it rubbed away, how much blood it would shed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The collar was so familiar that it was almost comforting. And Jaskier gave up the last of his resistance, and let darkness claim him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>_____</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Walking away from that clearing was one of the hardest things Geralt had ever done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Any other day, in any other scenario, he wouldn't have hesitated to just draw his swords and attack, crossbows be damned. As long as he didn't get a bolt to the head, he would most likely survive. And if he didn't, there weren't exactly a lot of people who would miss him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he couldn't risk Jaskier's life. The sight of a knife blade pressed so hard against his pale skin that it almost drew blood had been terrifying enough, not to mention how easily those crossbows could be turned against the bard. Geralt was fast, but not faster than a bolt. And any magic or knife thrown at Witold could still result in Jaskier's throat being cut open. And if that happened, everything would be lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Geralt had demanded to get Roach back, and then he had left. Left Jaskier behind, in the hands of his tormentor. Geralt refused to think of the man as Jaskier's owner, however true it might be. He had done his best to communicate to Jaskier that he wasn't abandoning him, not really. But the bard hadn't looked at him, and any words of comfort, hidden in his negotiations with Witold, seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier's scream rang out among the trees, and Geralt almost turned back towards the clearing. Only the thought of that knife against Jaskier's neck made him stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If he can scream, he isn't dead," he told Roach, who didn't seem at all pleased at leaving Jaskier behind. "I can fix injuries, I can't fix death."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was hard convincing Roach though. Almost as hard as convincing himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Knowing that Witold's men most likely would be keeping a lookout for him, Geralt moved as far away as he could while still being able to detect the group. It took a while before they started moving, but when they did, so did he. Now and again, he carefully caught up with them in the hopes of seeing Jaskier alone. But there was always someone close. Too close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, the more time passed, the more Geralt questioned his decision to wait. He had no difficulty being patient, stalking his prey for as long as it took. But it was another thing when he knew Jaskier was scared and alone and hurt. When he could smell his blood. When he could hear his screams of pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If he can scream, he isn't dead." It had started to become something of a mantra.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least they had put Jaskier in a wagon, saving his legs from walking up the mountain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A small glimmer of light appeared when Witold ordered the group to stop instead of travelling through the night, which Geralt had feared. They made camp close to a steep cliff, which gave a breathtaking view of the now moonlit woods below. Geralt didn't see any of it though. He only had eyes for the bard shaped shadow in the back of the wagon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first light of dawn was turning the eastern sky from black to dark blue, as Geralt crept into the camp. There was still a man there, standing guard over Jaskier, but during the last hour he had more and more often nodded off. It wasn't difficult to cut his throat without giving him time to make a sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier lay curled up with his wings wrapped partly around himself, as if to try and keep himself warm. He smelled of sex and pain and despair, and Geralt could clearly see the split lip and black eye adorning his tear streaked face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jaskier."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bard startled awake, his eyes filled with panic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright. It's me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"G- Geralt? What… what are you doing here?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wasn't going to abandon you. I'm sorry I left, but I didn't dare to-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was interrupted as Jaskier reached for him, burying his face in Geralt's shoulder with a sob. "I'm sorry. I'm s- sorry! I wanted to tell you, I… I just…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Used to the fact that Jaskier didn't want his back, his wings, touched, Geralt rejected the thought of wrapping his arms around him. Instead he placed a soft kiss in the bard's hair, hiding his anger as he stroked Jaskier's neck, only to find a metal collar there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't apologise. I understand. But talking will have to wait." As he spoke, he examined the collar, and the chain tethering Jaskier to the wagon. Deciding it would be the easiest way to quickly and painlessly free Jaskier, he grabbed a hold of the chain, and yanked it loose from the, luckily, worn wood of the wagon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can you stand?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded too quickly for him to have thought about it, and Geralt wasn't overly surprised when the bard tried to stand, only to have his legs give out. Catching the younger man, Geralt wrapped an arm around his back, careful not to hurt his wings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry." Jaskier sounded so small, so pained. Geralt didn't want to think about how much this would have hurt Jaskier's earlier progress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright," he mumbled, steering Jaskier away from the camp, towards the tree line.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sudden burst of pain shot through his shoulder, and he lost his hold on Jaskier as the impact made him stumble. He barely had time to turn around, before two of Witold's henchmen were upon him. It was still pretty dark, giving Geralt an advantage. But they were two, didn't have a bolt stuck in their shoulder, and didn't have an injured bard they desperately wanted to keep safe. At least he hadn't carried Jaskier, but instead kept his sword in one hand. But as he tried to get the fight away from Jaskier, he couldn't help but think that this was the exact scenario he had been trying to avoid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I knew you'd return." Witold sounded much too pleased, as he grabbed the chain and forced Jaskier to his feet. "It was far too easy to get rid of you. But he's mine. If you want him, you'll have to pay for a night, like everyone else."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt growled. But if the man aimed to distract him, it unfortunately worked, forcing him a couple of steps backwards as he blocked the mens' swords.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You won't get away with this!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, but as the saying goes; I already have."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second bolt struck him in the chest, making Geralt stumble backwards. And not until one of his feet found only air did he realise how close he had been to the edge of the cliff. The last thing he saw was Jaskier, his eyes big, his scream panicked, as he tumbled over the edge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>_____</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier saw what was going to happen a split second before it did. He screamed, and before Geralt had fully disappeared, he threw himself towards him. Maybe it was destiny, maybe he was just lucky for once in his life, but Witold lost his grip on the chain and instead of being strangled, Jaskier followed Geralt over the edge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite his wings, he had never learned to fly. Never been allowed to. And Witold had taken it a step further by clipping his wings, to make sure he couldn't even try. But that didn't stop him now. He held no illusions of flying into the sunrise with Geralt on his back. But if he could only reach the witcher, he might be able to slow his fall. To save him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Making himself as straight and thin as possible, he still fell for an eternity before he caught up with Geralt. As he did, he wrapped both his arms and legs around the witcher. He opened his wings as far as he could, and the force of the wind made it feel like they were being ripped off. He screamed again. Or maybe he hadn't stopped screaming. But he didn't care about any of the pain. He only cared about Geralt, and he would do anything to save him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn't sure how much he actually managed to slow their fall. Whatever difference he made, it was still way too fast, and he could only hope that Geralt's abilities to heal would save him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The darkness had hid the bottom of the cliff, and even if it hadn't, Jaskier still wouldn't have had time to look at it. As it were, the first outcrop hit him with no warning, though Jaskier supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. It forced the air from his lungs, making sure any future screams would be unheard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second rock was worse. It dislodged Geralt from his grip. And though he heard a sound as of branches breaking, he could only focus on the fact that Geralt was gone and Jaskier couldn't find him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He never even felt the third rock.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry ♡</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry this chapter has taken so long. I've been feeling pretty bad the whole summer, and even more the last couple of weeks, so writing has been hard. Even more so since this chapter refused to be cooperate. That's why it's a bit short too. I had intended to write more before next chapter break, but I didn't want you to have to wait even longer. Especially since I really left you hanging (or rather falling).<br/>Thank you again for all your support and nice comments. Even on my worst days, your comments make me smile, if only for a moment. So thank you!<br/>And if you just read the story and like it but DON'T comment, know that you too still make me very happy. ♡</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"...fuck…"</p><p>Coming back to consciousness was very unpleasant. For a moment or two, Geralt just lay there, feeling the pain in… well, in most everything. And then he was suddenly hit by the memory of what had happened. Of the cliff, of falling, of-</p><p>"Jaskier!"</p><p>Grunting in pain, he forced himself to sit up. The stony ground around him was spattered with blood, and he could feel it, partly dried, on his face. Quickly he made inventory of his injuries. Both the crossbow bolts were still there, though one had broken off. There were plenty of scrapes and bruises everywhere, a couple of them, like the one in his hairline, being larger and bloodier. He most definitely had a couple of cracked ribs, and though he didn't think it was broken, his left leg hurt more than he'd like.</p><p>At least he hadn't broken his neck. Something that more than likely would have happened if it wasn't for the bard.</p><p>"Jaskier!"</p><p>He was only met with silence.</p><p>Could Witold have taken him again? No, that didn't seem likely. Though the light told Geralt that he had been out for a little while, there was no way the men could have gotten down to them unless they too jumped.</p><p>Cursing under his breath, Geralt started searching among the boulders and stones at the foot of the cliff. To his relief, it didn't take him long to find Jaskier. But the sight of him did nothing to convince Geralt that the bard wasn't dead.</p><p>"Don't you dare…"</p><p>Jaskier was laying on his back, and even without the injuries, that simple thing alone would have told Geralt that the younger man wasn't alright. As it now was, anyone else could see it too. One of Jaskier's wings was trapped beneath him, and while the other one was spread out at his side, they both looked crooked and wrong. Geralt didn't want to imagine how many of the delicate bones had been broken or even crushed in the fall. One of Jaskier's arms seemed broken in at least two places, a piece of bone having pierced the skin, and like Geralt, he was covered in scrapes and smaller wounds.</p><p>And then there was his breathing. It sounded painful, wet and raspy. Enough so that Geralt almost grimaced in sympathy.</p><p>"You stupid fucking idiot. Why did you do that?" It wasn't really a fair question, but at the moment, he didn't care. Anger was better than fear, was easier. So Geralt silently cursed Jaskier's stupidity, while he used pieces of his shirt to temporarily bandage the worst of the younger man's injuries.</p><p>Moving Jaskier was easier said than done. He didn't weigh much at all, in fact, Geralt didn't think he weighed enough, but with both of them injured, it was a challenge. The wings made it even more difficult. Not knowing enough, or anything really, about their anatomy, Geralt would have hesitated to manipulate them even on a good day. And now, with plenty of broken bones in them, he was even more worried that he'd accidentally hurt them.</p><p>But he didn't have a choice. If it had been only him, he might have been able to wait until he healed a bit. But Jaskier wouldn't just heal by himself. They had to move.</p><p>As carefully as he possibly could, Geralt folded the wings closed, before lifting the unconscious bard. His leg hurt more at having to carry the extra weight, but he ignored it and started walking.</p><p>As he left the foot of the cliff behind, he drew up a simple list of what to do and in what order. First step was to get back to Roach, who had all their supplies. Step two was to kickstart his own healing with a potion or two. Step three would be to patch Jaskier up as best as he could. The younger man clearly needed a healer, but Geralt wasn't sure he would make it back to town without some more immediate care. Hell, if he'd thought Jaskier would be alright alone, he would have left him by the cliff while Geralt went and got Roach and then returned. But there was no way he'd abandon the younger man. He only hoped he didn't make his injuries worse.</p><p> </p><p>The hike through the forest seemed to take forever. Geralt's leg was soon shaking under the strain, but he pushed his beaten body forward. Jaskier didn't stir and didn't wake. Geralt listened for any changes in his breathing, fear spiking in his chest every time Jaskier's lungs seemed to struggle more.</p><p>As they neared the place where he had left Roach, Geralt wanted nothing more than to lay down and rest. The relief at seeing the familiar brown coat through the trees was almost enough to bring him to his knees. Stubbornly, he still made it all the way to Roach. As carefully as he could, he put Jaskier on the ground, and downed one of his potions before he allowed himself to collapse.</p><p>He was just going to rest a moment. </p><p> </p><p>Roach was the one who woke him again, puffing insistently at him and biting his arm when he didn't move quickly enough for her liking.</p><p>The shadows under the trees had moved, though Geralt wasn't sure how much. At least the potion, and his unintentional nap, had done its job. He was still sore and a bit tired, but the worst of the pain was gone.</p><p>However, something (as well as Roach) was nagging in the back of his mind, and he felt dread in his stomach at the realization of how quiet it had become.</p><p>Jaskier's strangled breathing had stopped.</p><p>Luckily, the bard was barely an arms length away, and Geralt was by his side in a second. Cursing both himself and Jaskier and Witold, and anyone else who had had even the smallest hand in bringing them to this point, he started rhythmically pushing down on Jaskier's chest, now and then stopping to breathe for him. As he worked, Geralt just hoped that Roach had woken him up as soon as she noticed what had happened.</p><p>When Jaskier finally drew a breath of his own, Geralt was ready to cry.</p><p>"Don't you ever do that again," he chastised, though the previous anger had mostly left him by now.</p><p>Jaskier still didn't wake up, but at least he was still alive. Geralt tried to not think about what he would have done if Jaskier had died. Or what he <em> would </em> do if Jaskier <em> did </em> die.</p><p>Wanting to get Jaskier to a healer as soon as possible, he carefully but efficiently did what he could for the bard's injuries.</p><p>"If you didn't have broken ribs before, you do now," he muttered. "Sorry about that."</p><p>After quickly putting everything away again, he wrapped Jaskier in one of the blankets. Partly to keep him warm, but also to hide his wings. As they too needed treatment, he wouldn't be able to hide them from the healer, but that didn't mean Jaskier would want everyone they met to see them.</p><p>With Jaskier securely in front of him, Geralt spurred Roach forward. Back towards the town, outside which Jaskier had made him a flower crown a lifetime ago.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So we are now nearing the end of what I have planned, and I'd like your input on how to go forward.<br/>My first intention was to wrap this up in a couple of more chapters, and then maybe write a sequel later. But since so many of you seem to love the story (again thank you!!) I'm contemplating whether to continue a bit more. I'm by no means tired of the story, I just don't want to end up with 362 chapters and a plot that loses all direction.<br/>So! Would you prefer about two chapters more, and maybe a sequel after that? Or would you like the story to continue longer? (If you want it to continue, I'd be more than happy to hear your wishes and suggestions for things you'd like to see happen, since I haven't planned much more and could use some inspiration.)<br/>I'm also wondering if you would be interested in a bonus chapter from Jaskier's pov. I first was going to write more about what happens to him after he is recaptured, and before Geralt shows back up. But I decided to go with Geralt instead to show why he left. However, if you want, I could do an extra chapter with Jaskier. Though fair warning it will pretty much only be pain and angst and sexual assault.<br/>Sorry for making notes longer than the actual chapter. I just want to make you as happy as possible. Thanks again for reading, and please let me know what you'd want going forward. ♡</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Felt that the last couple of chapters were a bit light on the angst and self hatred? Well, you're in luck. :p </p>
<p>Thank you all so much for all your comments! It was slightly overwhelming. I haven't gotten around to answer them yet, but I have read them all several times. I'm so happy to know you want to read more, and that most of you feel that a sequel is the best way to go. I already had some ideas for it, and some of you gave me more. Thank you! (And don't be afraid to send me suggestions even if you read this much later. I'm always looking for new ideas.)<br/>And thank you for being so understanding when it comes to my depression. Though I still don't want to keep you waiting too long for new chapters, it's a great relief to know that you are okay with waiting and are telling me to put my mental health first. Thank you! I can barely wrap my head around how nice and loving this fandom and community is.<br/>I love you all, and I hope you're doing well in these trying times. ♡</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first thing that hit Jaskier was the smells. The smells of herbs he couldn't name, and of potions he didn't know the use of. But despite his lack of knowledge in them, the smells were horrifyingly familiar, dragging up memories from the deepest parts of his mind, where he so desperately had tried to hide them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Memories of pain, of loneliness, of confusion. Of strict voices which flew over his head, of hands which tried to force his body into a more acceptable shape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...can't let people see…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...hold him down…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...not the child we wished for…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...fix this…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a while he couldn't say which voices were in his head and which were around him. He felt infinitely small, but still tried to curl up to become even smaller. Maybe disappear completely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The movement woke the pain, which had been laying like a throbbing ache over him, and he whined quietly at the feeling of knives or shards of glass burrowing into every part of him. For a moment he wondered if he perhaps had disappeared already, cut into tiny pieces no one would ever notice again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But someone did notice. A hand was suddenly at his cheek, and he wanted to pull away from it, but everything hurt so very much, and he was so tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jaskier? Can you hear me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He recognized the voice, though it took him opening his eyes before he realized who it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"G… Gera- alt..?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witcher looked down at him. His face had several cuts and bruises, and he looked sternly at Jaskier. "Don't try to move. You're…" He hesitated. "She will make you better, don't worry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smell burned in Jaskier's nose, in his mind. "Where… where are we?" he whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt lifted his gaze, seemingly looking at someone behind Jaskier. "I had to get you to a healer," he answered, once again meeting Jaskier's eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier felt the fear grow. "No…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You are very injured."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head as tears welled up in his eyes. "No. No please. I- I… Please, don't let them… I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Please, I didn't mean to…" He wasn't sure what exactly he had done, but whatever it was must have angered Geralt greatly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We have to," the witcher said. "This is more than I can help you with. I'm just glad there was a mage in this…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He probably continued talking, but Jaskier didn't hear anymore. Blood rushed in his ears and he could hardly breathe, the pain in his chest growing as he gasped for air. With what little breath he had, he tried to beg Geralt any way he could. He pleaded for his forgiveness, for the witcher to not be angry with him, that he would be so much better in the future if Geralt just spared him from this punishment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt just looked more and more angry, his lips a thin line, and Jaskier could almost hear the man's teeth creaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Pl- lease," he whispered, looking at Geralt who was blurry behind his tears. "I'll d- do anything. Please, Ger- Master witcher." He corrected himself mid sentence in the hopes of placating the man. "I'll be g- good, I… I promise. Please don't…" If he hadn't been in so much pain, if he hadn't worried he would fall to pieces, Jaskier might have gotten off the bed to beg on his knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jaskier." Geralt's voice sounded strained. "I'm sorry. But you have to."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those words cut in a new way, pushing their way through the pain and fear. Jaskier couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, as a piece of him was shattered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt had been different. Geralt had allowed Jaskier to say no. Geralt had promised him, again and again, that he would never force Jaskier to do anything. And now, faced with the one thing Jaskier would do anything to not have to go through again, he wouldn't even entertain the idea of letting Jaskier heal in some other way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witcher was speaking again, and someone else was too, but Jaskier didn't hear the words. He wasn't there anymore. With his one safe place ripped away from him, he felt adrift. It was almost like the numbness that took over when Witold had his wings clipped. Jaskier was vaguely aware of things happening around him, but none of it was happening to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were hands again, but not on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was Geralt's face, looking at not him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cup of something held to his lips, but it wasn't he who drank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it wasn't he who once again drifted off into unconsciousness, even though he welcomed the darkness that claimed him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Time seemed to lose all meaning. Jaskier drifted in and out of consciousness, not really caring if he was above or below the surface. Everything hurt. Even in his dreams he hurt, and he was haunted by faces glaring, laughing, forcing. He wanted to hide, to disappear, but there was no place to go, and he was so very tired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In his more lucid moments, he could sometimes feel how the magic moved his bones around, or forced wounds together. He should be happy, relieved. He was being saved. But he only wanted the feeling to stop, and he wasn't sure he was actually happy to be alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was always there when he woke up. He tried to make Jaskier drink, water and nourishing broth, and Jaskier drank what was offered. What other choice did he have? Sometimes Geralt would stroke his hair, or his uninjured hand, and Jaskier let him, even though the touch made him flinch. Geralt always seemed more stern when he did, the lines in his face growing harder, and Jaskier tried to be as still and quiet as possible. Maybe if he was good, this would all end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to not think about what would happen when he was healed again. It was clear Geralt had no intention of killing him, nor of leaving him. So what </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> his intentions? Jaskier was pretty sure the witcher wouldn't hand him back to Witold. There was nothing for him to gain by doing that. But there was a great likelihood that Geralt planned on selling him to someone else. After wasting coins on lute strings and extra food for Jaskier, selling him would make sure Geralt got at least some of that money back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Playing in the taverns hadn't made a lot of coin, but Jaskier had felt like he was at least contributing something. He had even started to think that maybe he actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>be a bard, a proper one. That Geralt never needed to find out the truth, and that Jaskier could continue to travel with him, singing about his bravery and deeds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have known better. He had been so stupid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier hadn't had a lot of possessions in his life. To see Geralt's shirt left in the mud had hurt a bit. But the sound of cracking wood still echoed in his head, the sight of his broken lute fed to the fire was burned into his mind. Losing his beloved instrument, and with it the strings Geralt had given him, almost tore him to pieces. There was no music to soothe and comfort him anymore. And with the lute gone, there was nothing left for him to offer people other than his own body, and the non music related things Witold had trained him to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So yes, being sold was probably the most likely future for him, whether it would be to a brothel or to some noble. Someone wouldn't hesitate to pay for him, he knew. Witold had had plenty of offers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe Geralt wanted to keep him for himself. He had promised many times that he would never fuck Jaskier, but he had also promised to never force him to do anything. Jaskier thought back to the afternoon in the meadow. The way it had felt to kiss Geralt. Before, he had hidden that memory away deep in his heart, but now it only hurt to think about. However, the kiss clearly showed that Geralt didn't actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> want him. The promise he had made had been to what he thought was a human. But now that he had seen Jaskier's true self, seen how undeserving he was of such kindness and promises… There was no way to know what the witcher would do now. Life on the Path was lonely after all. Why would Geralt </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> want an obedient bed warmer close at hand?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was hard to say which thought scared Jaskier the most. Being sold again or being kept by Geralt. After everything, he was pretty sure it would hurt more to have Geralt touch him in that way, but at the same time, it was the devil he knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe Jaskier could leave, run away again. But he was so very tired, not just in his body, but in his very soul. And though the pain slowly lessened as broken bones were put back together, it still hurt somewhere deep inside of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It hurt to merely exist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So with all his fight gone, he did his best to be as good and small and quiet as possible. Hopefully that would at least stop them from hurting him more. He drank whatever he was given. He let Geralt pet his hair. He lay as still as he could as strange hands moved over his wings or his body. He couldn't stop the tears or the shaking, but at least he could do everything possible to not be a nuisance, not draw more of their anger and punishments upon him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier wanted nothing more than to stay in that bed forever. And he wanted nothing more than to leave as soon as possible. Luckily, it wasn't his decision to make. Instead he waited, until one day when Geralt must have deemed him healthy enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We should leave. If you feel strong enough."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded. "Yes, of course." He had no idea how many days it had been since the fall from the cliff, but he didn't dare ask. It wouldn't make him feel any better knowing exactly how many days Geralt had been forced to sit around and wait for him to heal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witcher had gotten him a new shirt too. Jaskier was relieved to not have to show his wings, but he still felt terrible at the knowledge that Geralt had had to get him a second shirt. He would have rather gone without, if he wasn't so scared of letting people know his secret.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roach welcomed him by nibbling on his hair while Geralt made her ready. Jaskier knew that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>make him happy to see her, and to know that she had missed him too, but it didn't. He felt more numb than he had in a long time, since even before he ran away. What little he was able to feel seemed to consist entirely of fear and grief and that all consuming tiredness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't protest when Geralt made him ride Roach. Just did what he was told. He still couldn't decide if he'd rather stay as the witcher's plaything or be sold to someone else, but either way it would only hurt him to be disobedient.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stopped for the night near a creek. Even though they hadn't travelled very long, and Jaskier had been spared from walking, he was still exhausted. Shame rose in his throat at the knowledge that he was so weak. If Geralt had deemed him healthy enough to travel, he should be able to. But whatever strength he had had was gone, and the lingering ache had grown to pain again. He tried desperately to hide the shaking as he helped Geralt make camp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you, but I'm not hungry," he said quietly when the witcher handed him a piece of bread.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sighed. "You need to eat."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier almost managed not to flinch, and accepted the offered food. "I will. I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt just sighed again, but didn't say anything else. For a while they ate in silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry I didn't get your lute."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier dared a quick glance at the witcher. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't have time to search for it. But I'll get it back for you if I can."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded silently. He couldn't make himself tell Geralt that the lute had been burned. Saying the words out loud would make it too real. He wasn't sure it wouldn't break him too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After they had eaten, Geralt put their bedrolls out beside each other. While the close proximity had comforted Jaskier before, it now made his anxiety rise. The fact that Geralt had spoken about getting the lute back had to mean he intended to keep Jaskier for himself, and the placement of his bedroll so close to Geralt's was a clear indication of what he would want from Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trying desperately to control his breathing, Jaskier waited for the witcher to lay down beside him. He was so tired, and most of him ached, but he knew from experience that it would be easier if he seemed willing. And it wasn't like Geralt was the worst person Jaskier had offered himself or been offered to. He had been more kind to Jaskier than anyone he could remember, and he probably wouldn't hurt him too bad now either. At least he hoped so. All the shards of the broken promises hurt more than any of his physical injuries. But initiating was his best bet. To show Geralt that he was happy and willing to do whatever the witcher wanted. Hopefully it could earn him some goodwill, and relief from future punishments. Worst case scenario it would make no real difference.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carefully moving closer, Jaskier let his hands find their way into Geralt's bedroll. One started to untie his pants while the other stroked his cock through the leather.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt, who had seemingly relaxed into a comfortable position, froze at the touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jaskier. What are you doing?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sounded more weary than mad, and Jaskier hoped it was a good sign. Good enough at least. He forced his face into a seductive smile, even though it felt more like a grimace. "I'll make it good for you," he whispered. "I promise."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No. Jaskier, that's not…" Geralt grabbed both his wrists, forcing his hands out from both the pants and the bedroll. "Stop it!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever smile Jaskier had or had not managed to create quickly disappeared, and he cowered under the commanding voice. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I- I… Please don't h- hurt me again."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Again?" Geralt sounded confused. "Jaskier, I… If this is about your ribs, I'm sorry, but I had no choice."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded quickly, even though it aggravated his beginning headache. "Of course. I'm sorry. I d- didn't mean to imply… I know I deserve it, I just… hoped… wished… i- if it wouldn't be an inconv- venience…" He tried to keep going, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe as panic wrapped itself tight around him. He didn't dare look at Geralt, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to see him through the tears. "C- could it wait? Just… just a… a little wh- while? Just..? I'm sorry. I know I sh- shouldn't ask. I'm s- sorry! Please, d- don't be m- mad! P- please..!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Darkness claimed him again, and Jaskier wasn't sure if he fainted or if exhaustion forced him into sleep. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was with a heavy heart Geralt tucked Jaskier into his bedroll, carefully putting an extra blanket over him to keep him from being cold. He felt horribly guilty at having used a sign to make the bard fall asleep, but he hadn't known what else to do. The panic and distress had been so evident in the younger man's eyes, in his gasps for air, in the way he didn't seem to hear Geralt talking to him. Unable to calm him with words, forcing him into sleep seemed like the best option. At least that's what he tried to tell himself, as he gently brushed away Jaskier's tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last week had been hard, to say the least. Seeing Jaskier so injured had been heartbreaking in itself, but it had only gotten worse when Geralt finally managed to get them back to town. He had known that Jaskier didn't like magic, which was very much understandable after what he must have been through. But the fear he had shown when he realized that Geralt had let summon a mage… That was something else. Geralt had wanted nothing more than to send her away again, to calm the bard down, and promise him that no magic was needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But magic </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been needed. From all the broken bones, to the internal bleeding, to the punctured lung which had made it so difficult for the bard to breathe… There was no way he could have survived without the help of magic. So Geralt had tried to ignore the knowledge that he was breaking his promise to Jaskier, and let the mage stay and treat the injured man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had hoped that Jaskier would understand, given a little time. That Geralt would be able to explain the situation to him. But instead the bard had seemingly disappeared. He had been there of course, physically. But his eyes had been almost empty, and he had barely reacted to Geralt speaking to him or to what was going on around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt had seen that kind of dissociation before. He had one all too clear memory of Eskel, who after the trials had disappeared into his own mind, making Geralt fear that his brother hadn't actually survived the ordeal. And yet, seeing Jaskier that way had somehow been worse, especially after all the progress the younger man had made. Geralt had cared for him as best he could. Stayed with him constantly, made sure he ate whatever he could manage, and was very strict on how and where and why the mage touched Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had hoped it would get better when Jaskier was healed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day they could no longer afford to stay at the inn, Jaskier had said that he was alright to travel again, and Geralt had foolishly believed that to be a good sign. Sure, the bard had still been silent, but there had been awareness in his eyes again. Geralt had hoped that when they got back out on the road, things would somehow return to the way things had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had been wrong. Or rather, he had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>too right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as Jaskier had seemingly returned to how he'd been when they first met.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sometimes wished that the perception of witchers not having feelings was true. Hearing Jaskier once again offering Geralt sex, and feeling his trembling hands reach for his crotch, was one such instance. Instead he could only feel heartbreak and sorrow and affection, as Jaskier begged not to be hurt again, begged for forgiveness even though he had done nothing wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt had tried to calm him down, but the fear and hyperventilation only seemed to grow. Worried about Jaskier getting hurt, and at a loss of what else to do, he had once again broken his promise, and forced the bard into sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew he should sleep too. His body was much more healed than Jaskier's, but he had slept very little as he guarded over the younger man. But after what had happened, sleep eluded him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Feeding more branches to the fire, Geralt instead resumed his vigil from the past week, and started thinking of what he would need to say to Jaskier when he woke up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He let Jaskier sleep far past the time they would usually rise, knowing that the man needed his rest right now. He spent the morning sharpening his swords, cleaning his armour, and giving Roach a proper rub down. After spotting a blackberry bush nearby, he took one of their mugs over and picked it full, hoping Jaskier would like to have blackberries with his breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The plans for breakfast turned more into plans for lunch, as it was almost midday before Jaskier woke up. For a couple of wonderful seconds he looked calm, before the sight of Geralt and the late hour made fear return to his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you sleep well?" Geralt asked before the bard could start apologising for sleeping so late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded hesitantly, and kept the blanket around his shoulders as he sat up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good." Geralt smiled at him, and handed him the cup of blackberries. "Try to eat something?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier didn't answer, just looked on as Geralt toasted some bread over the fire, and poured tea with herbs that would help against the pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright. It's for you," he said, feeling at least some relief when Jaskier slowly popped a blackberry in his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I would like to talk a bit, if that's alright with you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, of course," Jaskier answered quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt wasn't at all sure that the bard didn't just say what he thought Geralt wanted to hear. But they really needed to talk, so for the moment he decided to take the answer for what it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good." Though this was the hard part. Even though Geralt had spent most of the night thinking of what he would say, the words didn't come easy. He was also aware of the fact that they had had a similar conversation before, and he didn't want it to seem like he was just repeating himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I… I want to apologise," he started slowly. "For forcing magic on you, even though I knew that you didn't want that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I forgive you," Jaskier whispered, his voice quivering slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt held up a hand. "No, please don't say that because you think you need to. You have every right to be angry, and feel betrayed. I made you a promise, and I broke it." He sighed. "I wish there was something else I could have done, but… Your injuries were very severe. I had the choice between breaking my promise or seeing you die, and I couldn't… I thought, hoped, that it was the lesser of two evils. You had already almost died once, and I couldn't let that happen again. I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was silence for a moment, while Jaskier looked at him with big confused eyes. "What do you mean I almost..?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You stopped breathing," Geralt said, doing his best to not let his emotions sound like irritation. "I was out too, but Roach woke me up, and I managed to get you breathing again. And I really… really didn't want you to die."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat in silence again before Jaskier spoke. This time his eyes were full of tears. "Why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why did you not want that? Why did you save me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt had the sudden urge to pull the bard into his arms, and hold him close. But he didn't, worried that it right now would only scare Jaskier away. "Because you are my friend," he answered instead. "Because I enjoy your company and your music, and I would be very sad if I lost you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier shook his head slowly, seemingly unaware of the tears now rolling down his cheeks. "But why?" He sounded almost desperate. "I'm just a whore. A slave. A freak."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And I'm just a mutant, a monster, and a butcher."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No!" Jaskier flinched as if he surprised himself with the sudden outburst. "I- I'm sorry. But… you're not. You're kind and brave and… and…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If I'm not what people say, then maybe you aren't either?," Geralt suggested gently. "After everything you've been through, you're still here, and you still care about others. I couldn't hope for a better friend."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some of the distress, which had hung around Jaskier like a dark cloud, seemed to lift, though he was still guarded as he looked at Geralt. "So… you… you're not going to sell me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Never. You're not mine nor anyone else's property. One of the first things I did was to get that horrible collar off of you, and we'll find a way to remove the brand too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier lifted a hand to his neck as if he hadn't realised that the slave collar was gone. "And you don't want to keep me to… to fuck me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt shook his head. "I would very much like you to stay, and keep travelling with me, but only if you want that. I understand if you can't trust me anymore, and I… can't promise that I won't call for a mage again. But I would only do it if I thought I didn't have any other choice. I'd rather see you live and hate me, than die."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't hate you," Jaskier said quietly, swiping away tears and leaving a purple streak under one eye. "I… I understand… why you did it. I just…" He took a shaky breath. "What I want never matters. You're the only one who… And no one has apologised before. Not really. Not without saying that it still was my fault."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It wasn't your fault. I doubt it ever was."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded quietly, his hands trembling slightly as he held the mug of blackberries. "I'd… like to stay… I think. If that's alright?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt felt relief well up inside him. "Of course it is."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Even though I can't be your bard anymore?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why can't you?" he asked, slightly confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My lute… it… Witold… the f- fire…" Jaskier seemed as if he might start gasping for breath again, and Geralt very carefully put a hand on the man's arm in the hopes of calming and grounding him. "I'm sorry it's gone. I'll make him pay for everything he's done to you, I promise. But you aren't what you have, right? You're still a bard, and we'll get you a new lute."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier looked at Geralt's hand and then his face, tears running freely again. "We will?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I promise." For a moment, Geralt felt he should find some other way to reassure, since he clearly couldn't keep his promises to the bard. But the thought was interrupted by Jaskier, who shyly and with a lot of hesitation moved closer. He didn't stop until his tear streaked face was hidden against Geralt's chest, his hands gripping the black shirt, and the witcher gently placed a comforting hand in Jaskier's hair while the bard cried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't really as good as it had been before Witold showed up. But it was a step or two in the right direction, and Geralt felt more hopeful than he had in days.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I almost feel this could be a good place to break. A little hopeful note before part 2. What do you think?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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